Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Soups. Are there more soups made on a winter's night than poems created?

First, when is a dish a soup and not a stew?
When is a written piece a draft? When, a poem?

It all goes into the pot and what is shared is either soup or stew and always the makings of a poem.

1 comment:

  1. ML/ 3

    Cobblestones and cocky lads
    have known this time of day
    The work is done, the hay is in
    The kegs are resting cold

    Circles stir the sleeping knaves
    and sword their hands on hold

    And if my cake cannot cox thee
    May I take you for a ride?