Blue, Green, Red and Purple: Gran's Winter Soup
“My Gran makes soup in the winter
Great big pots of soup: my Gran says:
‘Nothing better than a bowl of soup when its cold’.
And she offers some to nearly everyone who comes to the door.
So embarrassing!’’ says Betty Collins.
My Gran’s soup stays in the pot for at least a week:
Starts off with fresh crystal clear shining rain water:
then she adds green celery, leeks, and onions;
and turnips and swedes and orange carrots
and parsley and spinach and cabbage
and barley and beans and split peas and lentils.
the pot never empties and my Gran says:
“There’s plenty of water in the tap and God gave us corn and parsnips
and shinbones
and tomato paste
and potatoes
that we should not want!”
“Chuck’em all in,” my Gran says.
I like the smell that permeates and envelops and enshrines the whole house,
Inside and out, like a halo:
And I almost understand what my Gran means when she says that her head
Is like a big pot of soup:
Full of things some of which are almost forgotten,
But then come bubbling up to the surface making pictures,
Exuding aromas
Filling the room and her house and her life with joys and sorrows
And all the glorious mix of life:
(and anything you don’t fancy you just push under with the big wooden spoon).
