Pea Soup Poems

I remember when my Mom made pea soup. My family devoured it. The man I married won’t touch the stuff with a 50 foot pole. I only began making it a couple years ago, when one of my daughters came to her senses and realized pea soup is delicious.

Over the weekend, I picked up some ham hocks and yesterday I set the peas to soaking. The aroma filling my house was torturous. My daughter, lucky girl, has a late class on Mondays and does not come home till close to five o’clock. She came in the door, smelled the soup cooking and wanted to eat right away. I told her it had another hour to cook.

She thought that was pure torture. I told her I was suffering since 2 PM! Having the aroma of pea soup cooking in the house is excellent inspiration. šŸ˜€

Wafting through the house
A delicious aroma
Pea soup simmering

And today, I am wasting away my morning waiting to heat up the leftover pea soup for lunch. I thought, wasting and tasting rhyme. Can I come up with two more to make a pea soup tyburn?

Wasting
Pasting
Basting
Tasting
Ham hocks flavor wasting, pasting peas
Aroma is basting, tasting tease

Well I’m going to post this. It’s time for lunch.

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