Small MiraclesA Poem by Chris Shaw
By the time I turn on
our chrome plated kitchen tap gleaming and polished to perfection, observe a fountain of clear cold aqua gushing uninterrupted into the basin of our stainless steel sink, fill a tall, slim crystal clean glass with its contents to quench my thirst a child in a foreign land has sadly died as a direct consequence of drinking dirty mud coloured water diseased and foul from a cracked pitcher I am reminded we take for granted on a daily basis, without a thought, what others would gladly extol. What is freely available to us is nothing short of a miracle to many. © 2019 Chris ShawFeatured Review
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Added on June 24, 2019Last Updated on June 24, 2019 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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