Leek Soup Leek Soup by pupils from All Saints CE First School

Take me and Rachel, standing at the bus stop
Pop in the shop for a quick Twix fix.
The more I eat, the more she wants it –
Saturday morning Leek.

Throw in the training at the Rugby Clubhouse,
Down past Birchall, second turn right.
There’s a bar.
They sell pies.
Sometimes they’re free –
Free pies!
Smell it – half in your mouth,
Meat and potato, juice squirts out,
Feel it trickling down your chin,
Stuffing your face as the pie goes in.

Add the smell of the fresh bread baking,
Knead in the bustle of the Saturday market,
Throw in a kebab, freshly made,
Stir in the hot potato-man’s smells,
Add the sound of the three clattering cooks,
And a spoonful of Traffic Jam!

Herd in the chaos of the cattle market
And the milking cows
And the laying hens,
And the Brussling sprouts,
Throw them all in, then
Let it settle.
Look for somewhere quiet.

Our church. Cold inside,
The silence. The peace.
I like the sound of the choir
Around me, when we’re singing.
Sometimes, it’s almost ghostly,
Like a holy sound.

You can see stained glass pictures, on the floor,
A coloured shadow,
Reflected light -
As though the figure in the window
Is alive;
Has come down into the church,
Is almost there with you.

The singing ends,
And everyone is together.
The recipe is complete.