Best Pie Poems
guided streams of bright lights few squeeze through a crystal tight sky
colours this nature scene brand new a freshly baked pumpkin spiced pie
a random popsicle purple glaze
a toddler's finger painted blaze
the friendliest of all the river trees
dances calmly with a random breeze
the sun dives into his liquid bronze fate
as the wild plants wave back to placate
daily harmony here come with ease
while humans struggle just to appease
I always wanted two slices of ice cube pie
“You only get one”, was the standard reply.
I don’t know why I did
But since I was a kid
It was my favorite treat on the Fourth of July.
The pastry is known by all our relations
Since the recipe’s passed down for generations.
Every bite you’ll savoir
Exceptional flavor
But remember, don’t settle for imitations
Long ago, my great Aunt tried experiments
By leaving out one of the ingredients.
Once Uncle took a bite
He stared out in fright
And barely survived that bad experience.
My oldest son, Johnny became quite wise
He grew up like the others, before our eyes.
His passion for confection
Was a gainful connection
When he opened the first ice cube pie franchise.
Soon after that, we made our first million
And played in the sun with friendly Brazilians.
But to our surprise
We saw ice cube pies
On bamboo platters next to our pavilion
Right away we knew this was an infraction
Without delay our family took action.
We found a private eye
Who loved our ice pie
But his research left him broken in traction.
It was apparent to us that that kind of job
Was endorsed by the brutal ice cube pie mob.
But we didn’t frown
Or give up and back down
We were going to prevail; oh, yes siree, Bob!
With a meeting of minds we gathered resources
And then undersigned the following courses.
To make sure our ices
Sold at cut-rate prices
To knock competition off its high horses.
So back at the shop we assembled platoons
To build enough pies to reach to the moons.
And made plenty dough
That allowed us to mow
Down the cube racket’s, knuckle dragging goons.
We now manage an ice cube pie monopoly
Sales started smooth, but then turned choppily.
So we eased the frustration
With another vacation
But guess what we saw in downtown Mexicali?!
Your life is like a pizza pie,
With wisdom you should long or yearn;
It is not just a food to eat,
But also a lesson to learn.
With different sizes it is
Available just anywhere;
When you leave your house to buy one,
As you return it is a square.
Eager to see the bread inside,
The package with care you handle;
The moment you open the box,
What you have found is a circle.
It's so hard to turn a blind eye
To this tasty, delightful dough;
As you begin eating a piece,
It's triangle, you ought to know.
Constant change is in the world,
From good reason to alibi;
Your behavior improves in time,
Your life is like a pizza pie.
Mum’s
Baking
Pumpkin pie.
Light crisp pastry
Silky smooth topping
Adorned with pastry leaves
Topped with swirls of white whipped cream.
I start drooling; it’s so tempting
Our spoons are poised ready to tuck in
Oh how I adore autumn harvest time!
For love of October Contest
Sponsor – Andrea Dietrich
09~23~15
October, when the leaves intensify -
colored explosions: orange, yellow, red,
breezes to temper summer's heat draw nigh.
There's one last month of days with lightened sky
before our Daylight Saving goes to bed;
October, when the leaves intensify.
A campsite will my kinfolk occupy,
by hot bonfire we'll sing and break the bread,
breezes to temper summer's heat draw nigh.
So many sports events to satisfy
this fan: World Series appetites are fed,
October, when the leaves intensify.
The crisp night air, hot chocolate, pumpkin pie,
warm sweaters, gloves, and scarves become widespread,
Breezes to temper summer's heat draw nigh.
Sweet treats for trick-or-treaters who stop by,
the pirates, princesses, and walking dead.
October, when the leaves intensify;
Breezes to temper summer's heat draw nigh.
Written 12 July 2020
"Look what they've done to my song, Ma" ~ Melanie Saftka
Act I – Pie (One bright morning)
my muse just wants pie
I huffed, “Okay, give it a try.”
Pies begin with precision,
lovely decision.
I crave a treat, a sweet delight
one that brings a smile and makes my morning bright.
The popular apple and blackberry pie
Ah, just the thought makes me sigh.
Act 2 II – Ice-cream (Two hours later, on a yummy Sundae afternoon)
what fancy leads me on to dream
of sugar plums in frozen cream
I drool o'er yummy ice cream on my tongue
Thoughts of the tasty dish makes me so long
Betwixt lucky lips my eager tongue licks
A mouth watering afternoon dish fix
With a chuckle, he swore,
"I’ll just eat one more”.
My Grammy, smiling so whole
Creates the best pecan pies
A treat I cannot control,
When she plans a big surprise.
Those wrinkled, age-old fingers
Blend honey and nuts on trays
I wonder what secrets lie there,
As add-ons pile a display.
In the oven, goodies heat
Utopia in the making
Even young Sis tries to cheat
Moving the timer," Oh ring!"
On the table, sweet wafts hum
Grammy blinks, " Let's dine";
Buttery flavor; yum yum
Teeth sink portions all divine!
Pasty cheeks lined with syrup
All's finished I can't deny
Wanting more ; Gram hears my burp
"Left some for my Cutie Pie!"
Sheri Fresonke Harper's Plentitude Of Pies
by nette onclaud
10/16/2014
“The finest poetry
is the most feigning.”
—William Shakespeare
Smelling scent soothe my soul
Sits in sleek oven
Simmering Jack-O-Lantern
Smile so nicely
Saliva pours for
Sweet pumpkin
Pie!
~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~
© Joseph, November 2, 2008
© All Rights Reserved
~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~
Semi finalist contestant
292 out of 887 submissions
June 1, 2009 International Contest
~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~
Joseph S. Spence, Sr., is the author of "The Awakened One Poetics" (2009), which is
published in seven different languages. He invented the Epulaeryu poetry form, which
focuses on succulent cuisines and drinks. He is published in various forums, including the
World Haiku Association; Poetinis Druskininku, Milwaukee Area College, Phoenix Magazine;
Möbius Poetry, and Taj Mahal Review to name a few. Joseph is a Goodwill Ambassador for
the state of Arkansas, USA, a college faculty, and a military veteran.
~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~
He prepared the pie
With greatest care
Within the pot
My brains and hair
For hers had been
A lofty perch
Just a peg or two
Would never do
Cremated remains
Formed the shell
Into the plate
My crushed bones fell
I could still see
But could not yell
The pie's aroma
A story to tell
My innards baked
Hour by hour
The smell of blood
And blackened flour
Words poured in
Enhanced the flavour
The humble pie
For her to savour
Fork to mouth
My body consumed
From the plate
My heart exhumed
The baker says
She's eating crow
The taste is bitter
She eats the pie slow
The true recipe
He does not show
Humble pies plentiful
Stacked row on row
The victims many
Some you may know
If he invites you
I beg you not to go!
For Sheri's Plentitude of Pie Contest,
I went with a halloween twist.
It's love when you enter a room and give me these butterflies.
No reason to try and hide keeping these emotions inside.
You have me intoxicated from those sensations that you provide.
Woman you remind me of Sweet Potato Pie.
It's love when the phone rings and I rush to answer, praying it's you.
She's a part of my goals now and all the things I want to do.
Everyday is an adventure and always something new.
Together we've healed old wounds, despite the pain both of us have gone through.
A serene feeling of comfort when looking into your beautiful eyes.
You're warm like Sweet Potato Pie.
It's love when I purpose to her on Valentine's day.
A life of bliss sealed with a kiss was my determined way.
To make her mine for all time.
My partner in crime.
Like Bonnie and Clyde.
She still gives me butterflies.
I'll always have a sweet tooth for her like Sweet Potato Pie!
Abusive soul who tormented my heart
I didn’t wait for us to drift apart
I found inner strength at last
So don’t look at me aghast
You’re merely a crumb on my heart’s pie chart
A defumigator removed your scent
Into the trash all your hunting boots went
And those ghastly deer “trophies”
Ablaze with your spoiled green cheese
Your firearms too in the bonfire were sent
Valentine, let me give it to you straight
Goodwill came by for the very last crate
Maker’s Mark* for the homeless
Now that’s ironic justice
Hope your new home in the tent is just great
You wrecked my car and destroyed my credit
So you got off easy from where I sit
Not that you had much to lose
Just hair, weight, someone to use
Cupid aims, may your hemorrhoids get hit!
*Maker’s Mark is expensive whiskey
Entry for Sidney~Lee Ann’s valentine to an ex-lover contest
Written January 17, 2012
giving endless supply . . .
bright sun, blue sky
beauties for the eye
bird and butterfly
fields of wild rye
in soft winds sigh
rabbits spry
and foxes sly
preying hawk's wild cry
on eye and ear sweetly lie
all of nature's works comply
until I hear you sigh
our whole walk gone awry
feet covered in cow pie
Faye Lanham Gibson
Copyright, October 9, 2014
Humdinger Spice Apple Pie
Yesterday I baked a humdinger spice apple pie
Then my daughter called said she’d stop and give it a try
She was smacking her lips
Couldn’t take any tips
She told me I’m the queen of all the best apple pies.
Written: 2014 in the Autumn
Theresa Marie
Steak pies is my favourite to eat with vegetables for dinner
With succulent pastry which couldn't be thinner
Meat and gravy are cooked in unison
Making this pie a lip smacking tasty one
Dessert what more could I ask for, I love
a Bramley Apple pie cooked with a clove
The flavour is one to die for,
With lovely creamy custard, over it pour
Now it's nearly supper time what pie takes the lead
Nothing more than a Cornish pasty its a nearly pie indeed
Inside some tiny cubes of potatoes and swede mixed with onion and meat
Looks longingly at the clock, is it time yet for this treat
Goes to bed repleted, full of pasty and such
Dreams of pies and pasties, would think i've had enough.
Down in Alabam where big sweet taters grow
lives great aunt Cyndi diggin dirt with a hoe.
Up in the morn bout the crack o’ dawn
see for miles where she’s dug up the lawn.
Hard as nails with hair sweet- tater- red
she could set a table, make you feel fed.
Wave you down and ask you to stop by
have a piece o’ her sweet tater pie.
Smash sweet taters and hickory smoked pork
a chilled bottle o’ wine with a stuck cork.
Cornbread in the oven ready to take out
Slap your mama silly, lip smackin no doubt.
Dawg’s patiently waitin on the back stoop
for the cornbread mush and sweet tater soup.
With tongue a hangin and tail a waggin
shortly his tummy will be a draggin.
Sweet tater pie with whipped cream on top
you’ll eat so much you’ll think you’ll pop.
Sweet tater pie my sweet love from the south
more o’ sweet tater pie, well shut my mouth.
Copyright © 2010 By Caryl S. Muzzey