Charmed Chaos
Musings on Life, Love, and Linguine-Poetry & Writing
Chicken Soup
I remember an overcast day walking home from school
the rain had washed earth clean the ditches were running full
and crawdads were swimming away
I wanted to hurry home so I could go play
in the sweet wet dirt to dig a moat
and tie fatty bacon to a string to coax
the mudbugs to come my way
But what I remember most
as I stepped through the door
The scent of rich chicken broth
simmering delightfully on the stove
filling the air with thyme and sage
and my heart knew I was home
So today I’m once again a child,
tugging at mother’s apron
begging for a taste
of whatever she is chopping
She gives me a bite of celery
and then a sweet carrot
And a teensy bit of raw potato
no more, or you’ll get worms!
She gives me a hug and
I’m wrapped in her mommy scent
and the smell of her mingling
with the simmering soup
is one I’ll never forget
©2018 Linda Lee Lyberg
Author’s Note: When I was young, my mother would only give me a small piece of raw potato; she told me I would get worms if she gave me more! Today, I know not to eat raw potato because it can cause stomach distress due to bacteria.
Photo Courtesy of: My lovely daughter Tracy Villalobos.
If you get a chance, check out her cooking blog: Cookin’ It Up in Texas
The link is to the chicken soup I taught her how to make.
Share this:
22 Comments on “Chicken Soup”
Leave a comment
JUST RELEASED!
JUST RELEASED!
Linda Lee Lyberg
Awards Top 20 Short Story Blog
Recent Comments
 | Linda Lee Lyberg on Dreams of the Dellawisps |
| Linda Lee Lyberg on Dreams of the Dellawisps |
 | qbit on Dreams of the Dellawisps |
 | Sherry Marr on Dreams of the Dellawisps |
 | Damien D on Where Silence Once Rained |
POETS CORNER
Charmed Chaos 
Thanks for the raw potato tip. Nothing like mom’s good cooking (at any age).
LikeLiked by 1 person
Haha! Exactly. Thank you!
LikeLike
Nothing like that “mommy scent”! I’ll be wary of raw potatoes from now on! I could almost smell that chicken soup!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you Beverly!
LikeLike
This is so sweet… the scents of cooking and the memory of the process… (love the raw potato worms)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you Bjorn. Although my kids are grown, sometimes a simple explanation as to why they shouldn’t do something is best. I guess my mom decided I could understand worms!
LikeLike
Reblogged this on davidbruceblog #2.
LikeLiked by 1 person
the raw potato tip was a good one, mum’s knew how to scare good sense into us!! with this poem I see a generation of love passed down, the aroma of that warm chicken soup and mum’s apron, all the scents of a tenderly raised life. such a sweet poem Linda, one that seems to hug us as we read it too.
LikeLiked by 1 person
What a sweet thing to say. Thank you Gina.
LikeLiked by 1 person
my pleasure Linda, you wrote this exactly as i imagined when I came up with the prompt idea.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yummy, I love the warmth and love from chicken soup, specially when its cold and raining. Thank you for sharing this!
LikeLiked by 1 person
My pleasure Grace!
LikeLike
A wonderfully nostalgic piece, Linda. I can smell the soup simmering in the pot!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you Dwight.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, I’d like a hearty bowl of that chicken soup! Thanks for sharing 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you Lynn!
LikeLike
Very heartwarming and enjoyable Linda. ☺❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you Walt.❤️😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re welcome ☺❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love the smell of soups.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, me too. Thanks Frank.
LikeLike
Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
LikeLiked by 1 person