Herbert Nehrlich - The Ethanol Priest

Bless you my child so said the priest
you need to add a bit of yeast.
No dough will ever be a cake
regardless of how long you bake.
You see those little buggers turn
stuff into rising Torte Sauterne.
And cousins of the friendly yeast
will only be extremely pleased
to take plain sugar and perform
a real biochemist's storm.
They make the liquid I call booze
Your call, between the two to choose.
The child, perplexed that Father would
be talking booze and wear the hood
of holy servants to their God,
it really was, well....somewhat odd.
But then she saw through words and signs
this Father had no concubines.
He much preferred as you have guessed
the bottle. And was truly blessed.
You see a bottle is of glass
the other can't attend the Mass.

Herbert Nehrlich

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-ethanol-priest/