Alphabet Soup.
I’m here to say something profound
After all, I’m a poet
I’m just another lost voice in the crowd
This alphabet soup‘s too hot, I should blow on it
Dropping words onto pages
Finding asylum in rhyme
Stirring the soup with a cold spoon
Hoping for something sublime
I rummage through my bread bin
Through all the crusty baguettes
Ideas scatter like crumbs in the wind
Verse is sliced, buttered and digested
All I need is a large pot
Ingredients, and a burning flame
Stir the senses till they’re boiling hot
Soup’s ready, will it be a favourite?
From the cradle to the ladle
Through a graveyard of stolen recipes
Not reading instructions on labels
Alphabet soup pours out of me
I poured cold milk into my coffee
And stirred it with a metal spoon
A dreamer was what they called me
While I leapt over many moons
19
Many Moons.