Our God be praised for crunchy things, He weaves
Benediction to our senses - bounteous gift
The crunch of acorns, crackle of the leaves
Neath frosted cautious foot steps given lift
No more soft salad days in sunlit field
Now taste buds come alive and cue desire
For fare more robust challenge as we yield
Our choice, alimentation to the fire
Then what the oven! what the grill! the heat!
To metamorphose dull food catalogue
To scrumptious toothsome sustenance replete
With crackling why not go the wholesome hog
Transformed by sensual pleasure as we munch
We’re moved to a higher being with the crunch
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