Mud soup

The stone pot was empty that autumn day
The leaves were soggy and ripe for play
She made them her soup one spoon at a time
She served it out in an even line
She found weather cones and pine tree needles
And what they ate that day was meager
But to please her siblings she was eager
She played with water from the pond
And made a stronger, kinder bond
Her hands were muddy from her soft dog
So she washed them clean to hold a frog
Then she shook hands with every leaf and wall as she danced around the garden
And felt the leaves fall.