Ode, To Freshly Baked Sourdough

Ode, To Freshly Baked Sourdough, Art & Poem by Eric Buechel

Ode, To Freshly Baked Sourdough

By Eric Buechel

Ode to thee, bread of ancient lore,

From grain and water, thou dost rise and soar;

In hearth’s warm embrace, thy form doth swell,

A fragrant promise, a savory spell.

With crust like armor, golden-brown and bold,

Thy tender heart, a treasure to behold;

In every slice, a tale of time unfolds,

Of yeast and patience, and the warmth it holds.

Thou art the staff of life, both pure and true,

In humble kitchens, where the fires renew;

Each knead and fold, a labor wrought with grace,

A dance of hands, in flour's soft embrace.

O, how thy scent doth waft through air divine,

A symphony of comfort, rich and fine;

With butter’s melt, or olive oil's sweet kiss,

In every crumb, a moment born of bliss.

In gatherings where laughter fills the night,

Thy presence beckons, a hearth's warm light;

With every bite, a memory is spun,

In simple joys, our hearts are truly won.

So let us praise this humble loaf of gold,

In every kitchen, let thy story be told;

For in thy rise, we find a bond profound,

O, freshly baked sourdough, our love unbound!

P. O. Box 277

Pleasant Hill, Tennessee

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