Not so long ago, in a land not so far,
A young Northern lad, was ‘avin chat with his da
He says “da, I’m reet hungry, I could do with some broth”,
But his da wouldn’t have it, and told him to “get off”!
So get off he did, and he went out to field,
And a hoe he did carry, and a scythe he did wield,
But while digging up cabbage, there came such a cry,
“I’m a self aware cabbage, I don’t want to die”!
Now lad he was flummoxed, perplexed and quite mad,
(You’d think you were crazy if you were the lad)
“A self-aware cabbage, you’re having me on”
But the cabbage said “listen” and the lad said “go on” …
Sit yourself down and open your mind,
Listen to me and I think you will find,
You could say to hunger, “ere, get off”!
If only you had,
The Eternal Pot of Broth …
Now remember the lad had a problem inside,
Cos the pain from his hunger was making him writhe.
Though talking to cabbage made him feel a fool,
This “Eternal Pot of Broth” was making him drool.
“Ok” he spoke, with a gleam in his eye,
“show me this pot, and I’ll give it a try”,
The cabbage just laughed in a cabbagey way,
“I’m afraid I can’t show, but I’ll tell you the way.
Along many paths this legend has twisted,
Most people doubt that it ever existed,
But over these months in the ground I have formed,
While tree roots chattered and sun overland warmed,
Discovering thoughts that no vegetable has,
Into my ears this legend did pass.
There once was a pirate with a terrible crew,
Of murderers, misfits and vagabonds too,
Who tossed by the waves and blown by the gale,
We’re shipwrecked upon this land where we hail.
Now a pirate with no ship is no pirate at all,
So they set out to steal one, each man and all.
Through each town they swashed and buckled their way,
But no ship could be found to carry them away.
Till starving and hungry they were finally beaten,
It had been over 4 weeks since any had eaten …
So placed in the gaol, there was a problem to face,
There was not enough food to be found in that place.
And they could not be hung till a jury was located,
So a wizard was asked how they might be placated.
Now he owned a pot so heavy and black,
The shadow it cast caused dry ground to crack,
And chanting his spells, the pot rose aloft,
And became, in an instant, “The Eternal Pot of Broth”.
When hearing of this, the pirate had a plan,
To escape, and forever feed every man,
Who sailed with him loyally, brutal and true,
Yes, he would steal this pot for his crew.
So, waiting with patience, until feeding time came,
His men roared like lions, and the prison guard tamed.
They fled into darkness, the black forest closed off,
And with them they carried, “The Eternal Pot of Broth”.
Now needing more time, they broke into a home,
And fearing their freedom, the crew left him alone.
Return was a promise, but no pirate will keep.
And there all alone, the pirate fell asleep.
Woken by voices, the pirate became scared,
He hid in a cupboard, under the stairs.
Just when he thought he was due to be caught,
He took a deep breath and dove in the pot”
“Alright, alright” said the lad losing patience,
This talk of the broth meant he could near taste it.
“Please. Just tell me where this pot may be found,
Or I’ll … or I’ll … put you back in the ground.
With these cruel words, the cabbage was scared,
He did not wish to dwell in his underground lair.
“But lad”, he confessed, his intentions were clear,
“The pot that you seek is incredibly near”.
It dawned on the lad what the cabbage must mean,
And if he found that old pot he’d lick the thing clean …
“You mean to say” and the cabbage said “there,
Back in the house, underneath those old stairs.
But first lad you must listen to me,
With great power comes great responsibility.
You must ensure, left tipped over it’s not,
Or land will end up flooded with broth.
The lad feigned listening, and nodded his head,
But thought about hot filling broth now instead.
This was so clear, the cabbage could tell, and said
“Just you get off now ….” Then muttered “oh well”.
So lad without thought ran back to his home,
Where mother and father were dining alone,
And across creaky floorboards, and up to old door,
He ran till his body couldn’t take any more.
Tearing at door, and throwing out things,
Boots that were smelly and a kettle that sings,
Under a carpet, all eaten by moth,
There, he did find, “The Eternal Pot of Broth”.
Weak with his hunger, the lad couuldn’t wait,
He scooped broth with his shoe and greedily ate.
And oh, such a broth, the flavours so sweet,
With cabbage, potatoes, and some kind of meat.
He ate and he ate until his belly was full,
(and so would you too, if you’d known nothing but gruel)
Until feeling so happy, the lad could near weep,
His sticky eyes closed, and he fell gently asleep.
He awoke to the sound of a voice calling out.
“Mother” said father, “have you seen lad about”?
And lad knew then, the folks must be told,
Of this wonderful gift that was better than gold,
They’d be the saviour of village, the envy of kings.
No one would ever have seen such a thing.
“Father” he called, “quickly come see,
Look what a cabbage has given to me”!
Father, hearing the boy was quite near,
Called “come out till I give you a clip round the ear”.
Lad appeared then, but before he was struck,
Told him the story of their incredible luck.
Father, incredulous, thought him on drugs,
So the lad fixed he and his mother 2 mugs,
Of that finest of foods he’d just eaten of,
Sweet and delicious “Eternal Broth”.
His parents filled with broths warm glow,
Lad then realized that he must go,
And thank cabbage for his miracle find.
And who would of thought, a cabbage with mind?
Out in the field the cabbage laid around,
Repelling the crows with violent sound.
“Hurry up lad” he said “get me away,
Or I’ll be food for those crows on this day.
I’ve thought about my destiny a lot,
I think you must put me in the pot”.
Before he did, he offered cabbage a mug,
Then raising him gently, gave him a hug,
Placed him on pot edge, whispered goodbye,
“you will always be a friend to I”.
Gone with a splash, the boy felt alone,
Now that his friend the cabbage was gone.
But it wasn’t like the cabbage had died,
And soon he’d have his friendship inside.
There was only one way to shake sadness off,
So he helped himself to some more of that broth.
Now the days and weeks passed as they normally do.
Then a few months, then a year, then two.
And in all that time, for breakfast and lunch,
Dinner and supper, elevenses and brunch,
Petit fours, high tea, snacks and suchwhat,
They’d help themselves to some more from that pot.
They gave it to friends, neighbours and gypsies.
As treatment for colds, sniffles and dipsy.
They bought some old cows, and fed them broth too.
Then sheep, pigs and goats, and even a kangaroo!
Across the land their health and wealth were renowned,
Some said they must live on sacred ground.
Some feared witchcraft, (they weren’t much wrong)
Everyone else just said “what’s going on”.
So one day, a stranger chanced at the door.
Unable to contain his curiosity any more,
He’d heard of the tale of this Eternal Pot of Broth.
And come by to prove such nonsense it was.
All the family were out in the field,
So he snuck into kitchen where pot was revealed.
And seeing the pot, tipped it onto the floor,
Hoping to end the legend forevermore.
“We’ll soon see, eternal it’s not,
There must be a bottom, the broth it must stop”.
Five minutes passed, it was over his feet,
Ten minutes gone, his submersion complete,
He realized his error, to late it would seem,
The broth covered his mouth and head, and his scream.
There’s only so much and old house can take,
Filling with broth, the doors had to break,
From every hole, the broth cascaded,
A fountain of soup was extricated.
Lad was in field, admiring a clover,
“Oh no”, he thought, “the pot’s been tipped over”!
But try as he might, it was already too late,
The quantity of broth was already too great.
And there, on a wave, a familiar friend,
That little cabbage had come back again.
“What did I tell you”, he said floating by,
“now lands all flooded, oh me oh my”.
It’s ok, thought lad, mam’s been on sherry.
She likes cleaning up, when she’s feeling merry.
But first he must find that infernal pot.
It had already spilled it’s contents a lot.
He swam his way against the waves,
It was the only way the day would be saved,
Reaching the house, he could grab at the frame,
Force his way into the kitchen, turn the pot up again.
There it was floating, about window level.
Some kind of curse, a tool of the devil.
Just as he reached it, a cruel face appeared,
With a death black eyepatch and fierce red beard.
“Oh no”, thought lad, “that pirate he mentioned”.
And the glint in his eye revealed his intentions.
He would kill whoever he saw first.
The lad was sure to come off worse.
Calling upon the last of his power,
(got from eating broth once an hour).
With all the strength that he was able,
He turned pot up and put it on table.

So it took them some time to clean up the mess,
And the farm would never be back to it’s best,
So one night, without telling neighbour or friend,
They took off never to be seen again.
Lad, cabbage, father and mother,
Swore secrecy among one another,
No more feasting on broth every day.
They would feed themselves a different way.
But wait, you must think,
“They just decided to get off? But what did they do
With the Eternal Pot of Broth?”
That is a secret I’m loathe to reveal,
But believe me my friends, the pot it is real.
If ever you find a cabbage that talks,
And it tells you about the eternal pot.
Try to listen closely when it talks.
And be sure that left tipped over it’s not.

THE END