ReDmpTiON spEaKs ...

Wanton Soup for the Sad Girl

The blue cup and saucers,
Lie waiting for the tea,
The green paint brush,
Is dripping wet.
The glass lies broken,
The kettle merrily boiling,
The stove is on ,
Or is it?
The lighter can’t be found,
The dolls are stacked together,
Almost like a family,
A happy family?
Who can tell?
There’s a book in front,
It says chicken soup for the soul,
In good shape, maybe unread.
The family is tight,
The table is set,
A family portrait half-finished,
The water is on,
The bathroom door locked,
The tub with a duck is filling fast,
The boat lays waiting by the sink.
A girl sits alone ,
Down by the corner,
Sniffing, weeping, sad.
The tears roll down,
They don’t taste sweet,
A swish of hand,
The moistened cheeks,
The doll on the ground,
The severed head.
The needle, the thread ,
Couldn’t put poor Barbie,
Back together again,
The mother knocks,
A jerk sight towards the door,
A shake of head,
“Not now, it’s ok”,
- “I’m sure it is,
Dinner’s ready, dad’s waiting”
A whispered sigh,
A shrug to share,
The doll left alone,
The child moves on.
The family waits,
And another too.
The mom, the dad,
The daughter sits.
A big bowl of hidden secrets,
The cover slowly removed
And a hint of smile.
A bowlful of joy,
Taken one spoon a time,
Cooled by the warm breath,
Of a sorrowed soul.
The favourite remedy,
Of smart mothers,
An oriental speciality,
One passed down ages.
One soup to rule them,
One soup to soothe them,
One soup to bring them all,
And in the happiness bind them.
Chicken soup it is not,
Though the little girl,
Inside every man’s soul,
Craves for it, day in day out,
It’s the wanton soup,
That works the best.
And that is why,
Every kid in the Middle Earth
Knows this saying by heart,
A Bowl of Wanton soup a day,
Keeps all the Sadness away..!!