At first I was afraid
But my hand grabbed this page
And the pen was ready to follow

As I woke from the dream
My mind played out the scene
And the world was eager to swallow

Bread fell to the table
Basket rocked unstable
As the hungry hands grasped at its load

Through the ages of time
The teachers stood in line
But their preaching unheeded grew cold

© 9/18/2008
William Grant Preston

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