Sickness lies me home in bed
no hope to stop this dreary dread
for rain pours on days as this
but lentil soup is truly bliss

She mans the stove with idle ease
a soup of love to surely please
no doctor's note could do me so
for lentil soup is the healing pro

The bowl is warm
a heated touch
delectable soup
a sickness crutch

But this wouldn't be
if it weren't for she
the love she imbues
in the soup and for me

This isn't an ode
to a dish on the stove
but a song of the heart
by which I impart
the joy of Mom's food
the elixir of moods

Lifting the shades of the gloomy day
my love for her will never stray.