Water
In bottles corked by a nursing mother
Against thirst that would her baby bother;
In large drums hoarded by ablution-enthused Muslim
Who stories of its scarcity take with eyes unusually dim.
A dry cleaner’s spiteful curse of a dry tap
That wouldn’t help his trade, a hurting slap!
The keyed-up state of a seeker of a mouthful of it,
An insight into the whiplashes of not conserving a bit,
As much so, the helplessness of a camel driver
Belatedly aware of no oasis ahead nor the look-alike of a river.
Water is the double assurance of life in a world unlived,
To this end, a phenomenon that should be believed
While it continues with a dignified silence
Against foes teaching Rubbishy Science.
Water is never by, parched throats disdained
Rather ‘Archbishop’ by Adam’s Apple ordained;
Always usefully engaged here
And productively canalized there...
But watch it, in a big one, you go down
And you are sure to drown!
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