Song of the Rye

Song of the Rye
 
 A little poem to meditate on.
 

  I was made to be eaten,

And not to be drank.

  To be thrashed in a barn,

Not soaked in a tank.

  I came as a blessing

When put through a mill,

   As a blight and a cruse

When run through a still

Make me up into loaves,

   And the children are fed;

But if into drink

  I’ll starve them instead.

In bread, I’m servant

   The eater shall rule;

In drink, I am master,

   The drinker a

 fool.

Wine is a mocker, strong drink ragging;

and whosoever is deceived thereby

is not wise. Proverbs 21:1