On dreary, rainy days
When I’m down with the flu
Nothing appeals to the tongue or heart
Except a cup of chicken soup
And a handful of you
You pair nicely, also, with tomato bisque
Or clam chowder
Simple consommé
Potato-fennel
Or broccoli cheddar
You’re the perfect protégé on a sick day
Not too sweet or rich
Plain and simple
To soothe an unsettled tummy
A bit salty, though you may be
You are, in my ailment,
A comfort to me
About the Creator
Ryan Burkey
PNW native. Government analyst by day and a writer, song-writer and musician by night. Writing topics include nature, faith, relationships, and social commentary. Hobbies are traveling, coffee shop vibes, food, and comedy.
Reader insights
Nice work
Very well written. Keep up the good work!
Top insight
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
Keep reading
More stories from Ryan Burkey and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Dryads are Calling
They say the forest by Phoenix River sings. Perhaps it is just the wind howling through the leaves, or a particular birdsong. But Percy Fisher knows better; he knows what lies in those woods, and he knows that the forest sings of his demise.
By Leigh Hooperabout 22 hours ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
So Fantastic Oh My God❤️Brilliant & Mind Blowing Your Story ❤️ Please Read My Stories and Subscribe Me