Potato, Potäto.
Fruit to the counter and
bread to the bowl.
What once was in pieces
is now made whole.
Deer, buck, doe and fawn.
Peter, Paul, Jesus and John.
God took the dust
and from it came man.
All of this from an old
potters hand.
At this old table now I sit,
my stomach and kidney
within me are lit.
Remembering back,
when things were tough,
how they went from satin smooth
to sand paper rough.
But now I'm old
with little to do,
no more time
with which days to rue.
So now I lay me
down to sleep,
I pray the night
my dreams to keep.
From doe's and fawns
to Jesus and John,
I'll be thankful for them all
in the silver coming dawn.
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