Oh, the jar exults high
holding what we find to be dear
Oh, the marinaras keen zest, umami, and as I close my eyes
I hum the hunger tune.
Oh, but without the curved ridge and open space
the sauce would never grace my face
The jar! The jar,
the vehicle of delicious  
who was passed through many hands
and crafted with hot sand.
Oh, tomato, garlic, and onion so sweet
and delivered neat, for me to eat.