stew

A strange thing happened, years ago, while waiting for bus One;

an old man turned to me and asked if I'd ever tasted sun.

I replied, "The yellow ball out there, 'round which the world is based?"

Then shook my head and answered him, "I've never had a taste."

And after that I blinked at him, unsure what to do.

Finally I questioned back, "Why do you ask? Have you?"

He said he had. "In fact, my friend, I just made sunshine stew,

with hearty rays of warmer days and drops of morning dew."

I told him I would like to try a bit of that strange dish.

He looked at me quite hard and said, "Perhaps I'll grant your wish.

You must tell me, though," he said, "that you believe it's true

that I went out and collected rays to make my sunshine stew."

"For I have found through many years the stew does but appeal

to those who ask me for a taste trusting it is real—

that I speak truth in my old age, and not that I am crazy.

Belief takes work and so I'll warn, the stew's not for the lazy."

I simply sat a moment there deeply lost in thought,

wondering if I believed in this mysterious sunshine draught.

I decided that it was not real and sent him on his way,

knowing never tasting sun was the price that I would pay.