The Ingredient Strikes Back

[Written with much love and bonhomie in response to Milt’s Poem ‘Hearty Poetry Soup’] * Not so long ago in a land called Soup A warlock gathered a talented group These were the wordsmiths who writ all Soup Lore But the warlock decided that they’d write no more For he had been born to be ‘Soup Laureate’ A role he’d hold longer the more folk he ate Even a warlock is sometimes unreasoned Not much consolation…when you’ve been lightly seasoned So here in this cauldron we boil and we bubble Somehow I sense we’re in some kind of trouble My hope is this as I cling to the edge I hope I’m the meat and not the two veg But, lo, I discover that Milt’s being mother He’s spotted my need to write something or other His warlock-like methods at first seemed remiss Until this old turnip sat down to write this But still I find one thing decidedly troubling I look like a beetroot from all of that bubbling My poor scalded feet are developing bunions So at my next barbecue… Milt’s in the onions!