She was born into a
Jar of black pepper
Corns.
Consequently she woke up
Into the world sneezing.
There seemed to be
No remedy in sight
Then one fine day
She woke up clear-headed
A miracle cure
Nobody thought to explain the cure
To the fact that the supply of crushed pepper corns
Had at last run out
On her death she left her life’s writings
It was a book of cooking recipes
For black pepper sauce and variations around that theme
It was a theme lesson on good living.
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