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Rated: E · Poetry · Biographical · #1939943
Mother passes on her expertise
Mother' Soup

She taught me how to make it,
the mother of my beau.
She said it was his favourite
and it had to be just so!

So, I learnt the lesson
and practised it with care,
so that, when we were married,
I could present it with great flair.

The wedding was a triumph.
We moved to our first home
where, proudly, I served it up to him,
under a silver dome.

For three Saturdays, he ate it
without a single thought,
but, on the fourth, he turned to me,
his anxious face was fraught.

His request was simple,
that this soup would be, no more,
displayed upon the table,
or he would be out the door!

He thought he had escaped it
when he left his mother's house.
"No more pea and ham soup, please!"
was his heartfelt grouse.

And so I took the recipe
and chucked it in the bin,
and, for ever more, the dreaded dish
would be my greatest sin.
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