Out comes the pot- speckled tan, green, blue
Onto the stove- placed atop Satan’s flame
First goes the golden broth- it’ll hold it all together
That’s what we’re raised to know
Next comes the corn- small but flavor filled
Necessary component for the end result
The beans sneak in- masked by the rest
But ready to step up when they’re needed
Plop- there goes the potatoes
Always there to make excessive, unnecessary ruckus
The olives drop in- first unnoticed
But not for very long, everyone knows they’re loud
Then comes the cabbage- green and boring by nature
Although its presence adds a richness unattained by others
Mushrooms are added slowly- bland and pale
But could possibly be so explosive if you give them a chance
The sandy wheat noodles splash in- displacing the pots inhabitants
Too bad we don’t see them under the surface, intertwining harmoniously with the others
We choose to ignore that
The chef steps back- takes a minute to think
Concludes he doesn’t need to add anything else
Places the lid on top
In time, it comes to a rolling boil
Then it stops
Out comes the spoon- into the pot
Then to his lips
Which curved into a satisfied smile
It was truly delicious
But needed a bit more salt