Feast of Healing Hearts
(hummmm) My heavy head doth ring with pain,
From yesterday's sweet vintage wine,
The morning sun I view with dread,
And seek a cure of ancient design.
Bring forth the heavy greasy cheese,
And thickest bread from oven stone,
With salted pork to ease the soul,
And mend this weary aching bone.
The kitchen maid doth slice the loaf,
The skillet sizzles on the grate,
A steaming broth of herbs and salt,
To clear the fog and lift the
weight.
Bring forth the heavy greasy cheese,
And thickest bread from oven stone,
With salted pork to ease the soul,
And mend this weary aching bone.
My spirit
rests... At last.