A Bakers Life Has Come To A Close

My gransfather bakery life was over his shift was over the oven is cold the racks were full of crusts of gold the man was weary

His Movements Slow

Too Many Years Had Taken Their Toll

He Knew His Trade That Few Could Claim

His Work His Pride One In The Same

He Handed His Skill From Father To Son

With Love And Assurance The Job Would Be Done

He’s Busy In Glory Showing Saints

How To Make

A String Of Natural Sevens And Angel Food Cake

My grandfather George Premock Sr.

This poem was written by my grandmother’s brother Russ Flood