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That smell from the kitchen is no surprise,
It is just the aroma of Mama’s apple pies,
Other foods are good, but this is a treat,
There is nothing better I’d rather eat;
Even the birds in the sky can barely fly,
With such a sweet smell from one little pie.
Now my belly is just bigger then my eyes,
When it comes to eating Mama’s apple pies;
Some like berries, peaches, and other fruit,
But to my mind they are not worth a hoot;
You see that other stuff gives me a cough,
And late at night I kick all the covers off.
Mama strung apples on a string, but why?
Because she hangs them outside to dry,
And sometimes we have to shoo the flies,
Cause them apples are for Mama’s pies.
You can take my girlfriend or tell me lies,
But don’t you touch Mama’s apple pies!

Epaphroditus© August 25, 2002

Copyright © Thomas Theophilus