Little soup pot, short and wide,

What memories are found inside.

A recipe from grandma’s book,

When, as a child, I learned to cook.

Little Soup pot, chipped and worn,

When family merged and love was born.

Happiness was just the start,

And in that pot I found my heart.

Little soup pot, years have passed,

As I wipe the dust from you, at last.

Grandma’s gone and I’m alone,

My heart is longing to be home.

Little soup pot, live again,

Grandma’s soup – a perfect blend.

An eagerness I cannot hide,

For a taste of home dwells deep inside.