On Boiling a Pot of Soup for Thanksgiving

Perhaps you have once seen the Cheshire Cat? –
A smiling child that pops out half past nine.
An echoing click may give sight to a bat,
But sound the clock, "tick-tock," and take what's mine:
A thought of love condensed into a word
(Awaking in a chair you used to sit),
A flowering spring brings out the lonely bird,
(Though winter's heartaches freeze its modest mitt).
And now the season brings impending shoes,
A Cheshire Cat will smear its face with jam.
I drop asphodel roots into the stew,
I wonder if you'd taste it through the ham.
So long as you are waiting time will fly
Since neither life nor death dare break our tie.