Friday morning soup reminder!

Soup and Poetry

Two pots simmered on a stove of steel,
And sorry I could not sip them both
And be one diner, long I stood
And sniffed down one as far as I could
To where it bubbled in a savory oath;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the bolder taste,
Because it was hearty and thick with care;
Though each had flavor, none could waste
The simmered hours and onions shared.

And both that evening equally lay
In ladled pools no spoon had stirred.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how broth leads on to slay
All thought of hunger once incurred,

I shall be telling this with a slurp
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two soups were simmered, side by side,
I chose the stew, where spices hide—
And that has made all the difference.