My Dear Pie
Pies, pies wonderful pies,
Nothing better than spying a pie with my eyes
A pie in the hand is rather more grand,
A self confessed fan, of a pie in the hand
Heaven knows what the nose,
Knows to make of all this,
But that heaven sent scent,
Will soon start its ascent
Upward to the lips, the gatekeepers of pleasure,
O by what earthly scale, can this rapture be measured,
The moment of truth as the first bite is taken,
That climactic rush surely can’t be mistaken,
A paradise found, true fleeting bliss,
A bittersweet sense as it nears the abyss
For our edible comrade the end is now nigh,
Bon voyage, Goodbye, Fare thee well my dear pie
