Thursday, March 8, 2012

Ode to Broth

O broth, O broth,
I lovest thou broth.
For thou art fine and fair
and noble for my tummy.
Thou art verily most yummy.
O broth, divine liquid,
thou takest so readily to sea salt.
A bit of garlic pressed in at the last...
Nay,  do not skim thy fat.
O broth thou are so true. 
Without thy warm goodleness 
What should we do?
O foul, raised up in my yard,
Your end is so great
to wind up in my pot.
O clucking bird of early summer, 
The broth thou makest in cold winter
doth warm the hearts of men.

1 comment:

  1. I would not have comprehended the meaning of this "ode" until one month ago when I was advised to start making broth. (Sadly, I did skim the fat off the first 50 quarts, harking back to my low fat is healthy life.) Until one month ago when I started making it, I would not have bothered to read this ode. Now I understand. Beautiful.

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