My Offering
When the sands of life run out for me
And I'm about to die,
Will St. Peter say "Come in, Ma'am,
If I bring a piece of pie?
Gravensteins from my own orchard
Are the apples I lke best,
With sugar, cinnamon, butter, flour.
Recipe on request.
I handle the crust carefully
To preserve the tender taste
And delectable deliciousness.
Not one crumb should go to waste.
I learned the process from my mom
Who learned it from her ma.
Grandma honed her skills a lifetime
Making pies for my grandpa
Who was connoisseur of pie
And ate it every day,
Wanting fresh pie for his breakfast,
Not stale slice from yesterday.
Grandpa's hankering for pie, perhaps
Brought him to early grave.
Dad said if pie should bring him harm,
He'd just try to be brave.
My apple tree is bearing
An unusually big crop.
My family is clamoring
For apple pie non-stop.
Last week I had no money
When the tithing plate came by.
I hoped no one was looking as
I left an apple pie.
This week a plumper minister
Could not quite meet my eye,
But when my money hit the plate
I'm sure I saw him cry.
If you think I am just bragging
About my luscious pie,
I'm taking one from oven now.
You're welcome to stop by.
For Linda Marie's contest. "Dreamy Desserts"
Placed 8th
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
