A Bit of Braggin
I can bake a cherry pie,
That men have said is for to die.
Apple, berry, banana cream,
Makes no difference, for all they scream.
I have seen a strong man cry
When I told him there was no more pie.
Proposals I’ve had by the score.
They’d marry me to get some more.
Luscious flavor, tender crust,
At church meals my pie’s a must.
For other cooks it doom and gloom
When they must take their pie back home.
A mouthful of heaven in every bite,
Roll it gently, get it right.
My biggest fear is when I die.
The tears shed will be for my pie.
This shamefuly bragging poem is for the contest.
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