Oh, Pie-I-Made-From-Scratch, how I love thee.
You were a challenge from the start,
As I tried to determine the directions,
But I have defeated you, as you can clearly see.
I dreamed of you, oh pie,
Envisioning your crisp taste all week.
I fantasized about the thick crust, the sugary topping,
Without you I thought I would die.
Off to the store I rushed,
To collect the necessary materials.
I loaded my cart with apple and flour,
and returned all set to begin working.
At first, I was exhilarated.
I'm baking a pie, I cried happily,
A glorious pie!
With great enthusiasm, I began cutting and peeling.
After the second apple I had to peel,
I was no longer amused.
My enthusiasm was fading fast.
The pie was not as easy as it looked.
Still, I persevered,
drooling as I crumbled butter into the brown sugar,
envisioning the finished product,
as I stirred and stirred.
The pastry was made,
The filling was complete.
After a few tedious minutes the topping was done,
It was ready to bake.
I agonized for an hour,
Waiting for the pie to bake.
The ding from the oven 50 minutes later,
Was the sound of my culinary desire.
Finally, the time for desert came.
With a scoop of ice cream
and a quick warming zap,
I knew my world would never be the same.
How glorious was this pie!
How tender, how sweet!
Every bite made me wiggle,
you could tell by my dancing feet.
Before I knew it, the pie-I-made-from-scratch was gone,
All that remained was an empty plate.
Until next time, pie-I-made-from-scratch,
I will see you in my dreams.