Sunday, March 8, 2015

A Poem For Tia

Today I ate a piece of pie.

     It was an apple pie.
     It was homemade pie.

I spent the morning making the crust from scratch.
    And I used lard, not butter, so it was very flaky.

I used mostly Pink Lady apples with two
Granny Smith apples thrown in for extra crunch.

It was a Dutch Apple Pie, so there wasn't a crust on top ...
there was a streusel ...with cold butter, brown sugar and chopped pecans.

I didn't wait the two hours recommended before I cut into it so it ran over my plate and into the pie plate.

I crumbled a light layer of feta cheese on top
and then covered the runny, warm mess with canned whipped cream
because I like the psshtt of it.

It was the right amount of tart and sweet and tangy and warm and cool and creamy.

It was full of everything that was right and wonderful in the world.

I can't wait to eat another slice.

written 3/8/15

My friend, Tia, from my writing group, asks wonderful questions that really makes you think about what you are trying to convey.  She's awesome. I should probably wait until the fourteenth to post this, but I can always repost it if I am at a loss for a pie day poem.

3.14 15  So, yeah, I'm leaving it up for Pi Day. I really want some Apple Pie!


Hi! Thank you for the visit! Grab a plate and a sweet tea and let's dig in. It may take a while, but I always try to reply and return visits.