This morning as the sun shone bright
I felt a sudden joy within
This was a day for making,
The staff of life

I could already see it in the tins,
But dreams don't come true,
All by themselves

As I learned, when I was ten,
When after all the toil and baking,
I took the first bite,
A crust of golden bread,
With melted butter, flowing
It was a food for kings and queens.

A memory of long ago,
Learning as I watched a loving mother,
Make the weekly bread
A dozen loaves and pies and cake,
Often on the table spread.