The Story of the Magic Bread

as told by Anders Markstedt

Some people said it was the flour
A baker said it was the salt
“It’s obvious the yeast must be at fault
The rising is suspect”, said Mrs Bauer

The grown-ups always seem to worry
When things are easier done than said
We all can make our Magic Bread
Just listen when I tell its story

Once upon a time there was a painter
Who never had a painting sold
Each day the colours seemed much fainter
‘Cause paint’s expensive I am told

And one day to no surprise
She looked at empty canvas white
Behold a blessing in disguise
She gained by magic new insight

She named the painting “Winter Light”
Then followed “Snow and Ice”
Presented next “Invisible Delight”
Not to mention “Fog in Paradise”

Now here the story could have ended
Still poor and nothing to devour
Her eyes came fixed on model splendid
A mountain of all-purpose flour

To move from painting into sculpture
Is not a big feat when you’re famished
‘Cause bread is so ingrained in culture
It felt just right when flour vanished

The heaps of flours quickly melted
And turned by magic into bread
Indeed the linseed oil and speltseed
Were harbingers of way ahead

Cause bread is art and art is bread
The word was quickly spread around
And in the studio crisps abound
Yes this was easier done than said

So with the income from the sales
The artist went to get a loan
Cause money is the bread and bone
Without it any business fails

The banker wore a pinstripe suit
That soon was speckled with the crumbs
He couldn’t speak but showed his thumbs
Up they said “We’re in cahoot!”

And so it went, there was no ending
To magic that the bread produced
Wherever it was introduced
The Aahs and Oohs were no pretending

What people said was just your dream
The magic bread would make come true
The bread wo’nt tell you what to do
It just encourages your scheme

Don’t tell yourself it can’t be done
And don’t believe there is no magic
But never trying, that is tragic
To never taste this magic bun

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