Ode to a test tube baby

A pinch of you, a dash of me
This tube belies a mystery.
A bakers hand, by luck instead
His binding ties a silver thread,
‘Round a question mark you can see;
This image of an ovary.
The fall and rise of living bread,
He’s aware of all to dread!
We all despise that recipe.
Unlock the “fist” that holds the key!

***

By Paul Robilotti