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.