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.
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