As the Soup Stirs

I stand here with my warm cup from the pot... All the poets are the ingredients, none I forgot... Some combine to form a spice we can savor... Others create an aroma that brings a sweet flavor... Without all of us adding our taste and turning the spoon, there would just be some hot water and a meal ruined... No one adds more then the other, otherwise it wouldn't blend... It's a pot of soup cooked up by all with poetic hands to lend... So gather around my table and smile as you share a cup... And across the world we shall taste and raise our glasses up... Dedicated To all on Poetry Soup