Ode To The Gurgle Pot

A woman was once rich for a day and filled with glee

Bare plates, empty horizons, pleasures to be

What better mind than to treat oneself

She walked two miles to a shop that stood alone in all indifference

Since the wildest point of view was the window

She saw a pot on the shelf did the peeking widow

A fish that could breathe air positioned for all to admire right there

Picture perfect, angled view, carafes in the most entertaining hues

A whimsical stance, as if leaping in dance, if it could wink it would

A treasured keepsake to be of an ornament of history

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A turn to the day can be in happiness of a simple thing

So she took it with her for a hamburger and on the table she placed it delicately

Servers, customers, paper boys, and pipers stopped to admire

What is it, what is it, what is it!

A carafe, a vase, a bottle, a jug, a thing to hug

A carefully carved spout with a secret purpose

A hidden design in tempered earth's surface

When tilted right it gurlged

The Gurgling Pot all the way from Europe

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So the story goes an American once went to a wedding

Witnessed in all its splendor the pouring wonder

The shapely design, the colour, the gurgling outcome

The delight of all the guests at the marriage in France

So he brought back the tale, the design and voila

Now North America can imbibe from a gurgling aha

In praise of ordinary things, there should be a special appreciation

Of forms with a function that serve humanity

Life-giving, holding molecules to serve yourself, effervecsing, refreshing, invigorating

Things ordinary and worth cherishing