Just as the stars
closed their eyes to somnolence
and the sun greeted
us with its warm array,
the melting pot overflowed its broth
like lava spewed at Mt. Rainier.
Some at working hours.
Some sitting down to soup.
Some already indulged.
Some awaiting their alarms.
The stock like consommé
on a still, serene A.M.
turned bouillon’s pottage
to boils of turmoil and violent commotion.
It was like:
Minestrone of Vermicelli
Italian style;
Borscht of Russian’s Beet;
Lentil soup native to the world;
Thickened to creamy Bisque
And Gumbo’s okra pods;
Bouillabaisse’s Chowder of wine;
Became Vichyssoise
Potato cream soup.
Then the mixture
became too thick
like mashed potatoes
stirred-up with strife
of steel that gave way
for all the world to see.
Whatever the taste of
slow boiled food...:
vegetables, fish, or meat
this unique stew
triggered by extreme heat;
You were the main ingredient
Osama bin Laden
Carol D. Meeks
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-soup-that-will-last-forever/
