Oil Wells in My Living RoomA Poem by Chris Shaw
I am not one to covet wealth,
preferring riches such as health to bless the lives of those I love. I do not care for showy stones or necklace chains that drip their gold, but praise the gifts that nature brings that raise my spirits when they're low. Far greater valued than all gems, grant me a sunrise washed in pinks, a sunset swathed in purple hues, vast oceans wrapped in turquoise blues or stars that priceless wink in fun, that spangle in the dark night sky as I behold their majesty. Or walking in a winding lane while red kites circle overhead, alive the hedgerows, leafy green with poppies scattered randomly in clusters with their silken skirts of scarlet teased by gentle breeze. These are the treasures I hold dear. As long as I have eyes to see that swell and stir the life in me. I'll walk though I have wells of oil, a pump out in my living room. For precious is this fountain spill and all the wealth I'll ever need, dispelling any tides of gloom.
© 2018 Chris ShawAuthor's Note
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14 Reviews Added on May 16, 2018 Last Updated on May 16, 2018 AuthorChris ShawBerkshire, United KingdomAboutAlbert, my paternal grandfather introduced me to Tennyson when I was nine. I have loved poetry ever since but did not attempt writing a single piece until I was 40. It's never too late to try somethin.. more..Writing
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