SOUP "Soup" is a many splendored word. The very sound of it strikes a chord. There are soup cooks, Soup books Soup bowls Soup for the souls, Soups in alphabets, from boneless chuck, Birds' nest, turtle, hen and duck Never alike and never a bore Soup kitchens beckon with smells through the door. Soup for the rich and Soup for the poor Soups of all people find Their own soup du jour Soup conjures comfort and memories of peace Whether from an antique tureen Or tin cup on a wagon's release. Tomato from LaMadelines in a big city mall, A gourmet starter in a fancy-dressed hall. A microwave cup from a grocery store shelf, Catchup and hot water - just suit yourself. But There's another side of soup, you know, There's a soup of mixed people, And a pea soup fog, The streets get soupy when rain and snow fall You may say slush, but this is my poem, y'all. © Dreamer (Twilite08@aol.com) ~INDEX PAGE~