Apple Pie

There’s an apple pie baking
All cinnamon smelling
Full of autumn’s pickings
And the house is alive with
That warmth.

Apples from a farm way
Up in the North Country
Are the heart of the creation
Crisp and clean
Hand picked and fresh.

Woe to the calorie counters
Those who refuse to savor
A gift so fine and true
Worshipping at the altar
Of cholesterol free food.

What could be so bad?
Some fruit and flour
Sugar pure and fine
Spices butter lemon
Lovely stuff melded gently.

But oh the fat and oh
The ice cream on the
Side of that warm
Delicious dish so
Rich and good.

One slice only I
Promise with fingers
Crossed. I’ll give the
Rest away tomorrow
I lie sincerely.

Damn it’s good.