As the simmering soup lets out a dreamy aroma of spices,
The scent wafts through the nose soothingly,
Leaving the lungs with lively flavours,
I guess that explains why we were bouncy.
“This soup treats a cold”
Grandma usually said while serving,
All the children could not withhold, The joy of visiting grandma in spring.
Her huge *** seemed bottomless,
Yes, she never bought a smaller ***
On the dinner table, the soup brought a sense of closeness,
The kind of love that cannot be bought.
As I slip in the memories,
The side of my mouth subtly curls up,
Summing up the thought of copacetic spring medleys,
And taking the soup in place of the syrup.
Jul 19, 2017
Jul 19, 2017 at 1:06 PM UTC
As the simmering soup lets out a dreamy aroma of spices,
The scent wafts through the nose soothingly,
Leaving the lungs with lively flavours,
I guess that explains why we were bouncy.
“This soup treats a cold”
Grandma usually said while serving,
All the children could not withhold, The joy of visiting grandma in spring.
Her huge *** seemed bottomless,
Yes, she never bought a smaller ***
On the dinner table, the soup brought a sense of closeness,
The kind of love that cannot be bought.
As I slip in the memories,
The side of my mouth subtly curls up,
Summing up the thought of copacetic spring medleys,
And taking the soup in place of the syrup.