This loaf I bake was once golden wheat
which harvested,
threshed then ground
made flour from ripened ears of blessing.
This cheese I churn was once milky froth
which with countless
turning first creamed then set
to hardened thickness of clotted health.
This wine I drink was once fruity grape
which trodden made
from flesh musty liquid
that time changed to nectar-rich pleasure.
This thanks I give was once humbly said
as harvest custom
so feasters could not forget
that abundance appears when heads bend.
May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 6:01 AM UTC
This loaf I bake was once golden wheat
which harvested,
threshed then ground
made flour from ripened ears of blessing.
This cheese I churn was once milky froth
which with countless
turning first creamed then set
to hardened thickness of clotted health.
This wine I drink was once fruity grape
which trodden made
from flesh musty liquid
that time changed to nectar-rich pleasure.
This thanks I give was once humbly said
as harvest custom
so feasters could not forget
that abundance appears when heads bend.
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