A puddle

Is a spoiling

Left for Owen’s jump

A boy lot

A miracle

Led to living bread

Hospitable

And on, to the center of truly true

And on, to the image of me

And on, to the plight of my team

And on, to the umpire’s release

Monday bakes

Is a yearning

Sabbath’s eager glee

A knowing

Recognizes

A soul’s melody

Hospitable

And on, to the hue of the moment

And on, to the leaflet in the stream

And on, to the nurture of the wee one

And on, to the rancher’s decree