Poem for her 682

Dear Readers,


Pudding pies

The days head toward pie making
The Onion pie my dad once made
The Apples off the small trees out back
The tea cake cookie pie we made
That one was a recipe your joke inspired
That day we made to much tea for us
Our tummies full already
No way to store the left overs
I thought hey
And the recipe is yet to be copied
Stuck in my head
But the butterscotch pie
Just now smelling fresh
There on the table
Two spoons
There you
Here me
Yummy

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.