"What a pilgrim might say"

We sat stunned, though we all believed in God,
Principally because what wasn,t growing in the sod.
Our hungred relief we thought we could see far away,
The remnants of a shipwreck that wouldn,t reach Bay.

The beans and corn both leaned with a great sway,
beans curled around corn good as dead that day.
Brown and morbid as death, dry as the ground,
Which had been that way, over six weeks unsound.

Sometimes when weakest that,s when we are strong,
That,s when all the pious broke into this song.
A song to the sovern almighty God above,
Who made promise to us all, that Father of Love,

We would not even eat till we heard his voice,
About food for us all, even the lowly horse.
fasting did abound, and one day morning came,
And it came not alone,the daylight brought rain.

fourteen days the rain came steady and slow,
Just the right conditions to make dead corn grow.
Neither sought we grace for ourselves alone,
But for those in the ship the ocean had overthrown.

Needless to say our miraccle bread came right on time,
With those rescued, we celebrated with bread and wine.
Oh generations, remember our rescue from sliverings,
That every mouth may sing with happy thanksgivings.

By Bill Sullivan

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