DON'T CHANGE THE RECIPE! 
RETURN TO POEM LIST 
The desire of the slothful killeth him; for his hands refuse to labor. Pr. 21:25  
The sluggard is wiser in his own conceit than seven men that can render a reason. Pr. 26:16 
 
Once upon a dessert,  
some yellow cake I tasted;  
So moist, fluffy, and sweet,  
not one bite was wasted.  
 
Surely, I decided,  
more of this Ill make;  
And looking in a cookbook.  
I found that yellow cake.  
 
Yet there to my horror,  
that tasty yellow fluff  
Was said to come from salt and flour 
and such unpleasant stuff.  
 
Such things seemed so foreign  
to cake with so much flavor; 
I was sure of a mistake,  
and changed it to my favor.  
 
I kept the sugar in the bowl;  
milk and vanilla could stay;  
But threw the baking powder  
and that old salt away.  
 
Did tolerate the tasteless flour;  
but slimy eggs no way!  
Now I had fixed that recipe  
and improved it my own way.  
 
I dreamed of a yellow cake  
just like the one Id had;  
But when the baking time was o'r,  
my cake was bad, bad, bad!  
 
Then upon vacation,  
I saw one whod been sick:  
Had been weak and slow,  
but now was strong and quick.  
 
I saw that health and vigor.  
I longed to have my own;  
So asking for the remedy,  
I gladly took it home,  
 
But when I began to read,  
it certainly did seem  
They had simply gone too far:  
gone to an extreme!  
 
Surely all that health and strength  
could come a better way.  
Must I eat that diet  
and exercise each day? 
 
Raw vegetables and fruit;  
but no more Captain Crunch?  
Leave my chips and pop?  
No donuts with my lunch?  
 
Surely theres a smarter way,  
that prescription Ill improve;  
Add a little yummy stuff,  
so the veggies go down smooth.  
 
Once upon a visit,  
I saw a family rare:  
Happy wife and children,  
with many smiles to share.  
 
I thought that was a lucky man  
to have a home so fair.  
Said Id like the recipe,  
if he didnt care.  
 
He handed me the Bible, 
said I must obey.  
Jesus had to be the Lord,  
there was no easy way. 
 
Church every Sunday,  
submission, love and prayer.  
Self must be crucified,  
the cross I had to bear.  
 
Worldly living, it must go;  
my sins I had to hate:  
Surrender all my will to God.  
All this he did relate  
 
Self denial and modesty?  
submission to God and man?  
The giving up of my own will? 
was this the only plan?  
 
Just then I heard a voice  
come soft and deep and low,  
Did you ever make the cake?  
Good health did you er know?  
 
When recipes are altered,  
products arent the same.  
The recipe was not at fault;  
the baker is to blame!  
 
We dont like the flour,  
salt or even butter;  
Baking sodas nasty,  
and raw eggs make us shudder.  
 
But 0 we love that flavor,  
the lovely yellow fluff  
That only comes by mixing 
such unlovely stuff.  
 
The tasteless ingredients,  
some bitter, and some sweet  
All must be in order  
if true success wed meet.  
 
Thinking we can alter,  
improve and just delete;  
Will not give what we desire,  
but leave us in defeat!  
 
MARK BULLEN