A Multitude of Pies

It's harvest time and that means we Are picking all the fruit we see To bake into our luscious pies. Each steaming crust hides a surprise. For pies we've frozen straw and raspberries, In July we gathered all the cherries. Without another day of waste Came blue and blackberries in great haste. Now pears and plums and apples wait Our appetites for fruit pies to sate. And my own favorite, oh my Is anything better than peach pie? Our garden too, has given forth Pumpkins for many a pies worth. Tempting to every Bill or Phil As they cool on my window sill. Thanksgiving is coming and my duty To create pies of utter beauty, With crust that crumbles in one's mouth. Birds wait for taste ere flying south. My grandchildren come in every size And each one wants his favorite pies. So I bake their favored ones for each And for my self I keep the peach.