The Stone Soup

[JWagner]

Once it was a Celtic warrior
In deep winter, homeward bound
Having eaten naught for ages
Carrying a pot, that he had found

He entered a village, kindled fire
Placed in the pot a stone so bare
Added water, simmered a soup
"A pinch of salt would make it fair!"

A villager willingly brought the spice
"So welcome our meal-maker!
Still a carrot and some bread!"
They were donated by the baker

A chicken leg would be so fine
Some herbs and grains also to add
A perfect soup, that we could dine
And everyone would be so glad

So many came and spent a little
'Cause stone soup, it was unknown here
They all ate and all were filled
Only one thing remained so clear:

The stone, the starting spark of all
Must carefully be wrapped in cloth
In case someone would ask or call
In our days it's hope and troth