Dr Abe V Rotor
Mature pods of acacia
I wonder how you can make sugar,
from the sun to leaves to pods;
wouldn't the same process I know,
unlock the secret of the gods?
I made your pods into syrup;
if goats love it, why can't man?
But, oh, how I brought Golgotha
down, its taste is next to none.
I fermented your pods into wine,
Ambrosian taste my goal,
Oh, not even by nature's aging
could make a drinker a fool.
I looked up at your spreading crown,
and wondered what good you're meant,
cracked your pods for a final taste
of life's bitter-sweet taste and scent. ~