A Miracle

That water fountain was drained,
its beauty now taint,
its people without ordain,
gave in to all bane.

Rather than go to great heights,
to build that of great might,
they blew their freights,
to which made them go blight.

Many a days do people see,
That of many they may be,
Of some had glee,
and many were of no blee.

And so the great preacher rose,
And those who came to host,
With few who opposed,
Became too dazed to boast.

Who knows that simple treat,
That made things meet,
Made a great deed,
That few rarely did.