We love our pies
Fried with butter
Hear their cries
Our hearts aflutter
Make them, sell them
Give ‘em to your mutter
Not a one, can we condemn
Better than bread and butter
Dutch apple, cherry
Raspberry, coconut cream
Take a bite, please don’t tarry
See your smile, face all abeam
Each a favorite, to someone
Pick a pie that speaks to you
Buy that apple for your son
Send that blueberry to Katmandu
Eastern Star, since 1958
Those pies they bake
We can appreciate
Buy one now, for our sake
Written for Della Murphy and her
Eastern Star chapter, Lexington, OK.
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Author: Don Iannone, D.Div.
Biography
Photographer, poet, teacher, complementary medicine provider, interfaith minister, and former economic developer. Holds a Doctorate in Divinity, Master of Divinity, Master of Mind-Body Medicine, and Bachelor of Arts degree in Anthropology. Clinical certifications in Reiki, guided meditation, life purpose coaching, and spiritual counseling. Author of 12 books, including two new books in the contemporary spirituality field. Learn more here.
Contact Information
Kosmos Consulting and Research website: https://www.donaldiannone.com/
Visual Advantage Photography website: http://www.visualadvantagephoto.com
Flickr Photo Page here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/don-iannone
Contact Don Iannone by email: diannone@gmail.com
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Poetic Alchemist 
Gautami: Too funny. Thanks for stopping by the commenting.
And I was thinking of pie-charts reading the title..:D
Joking!
Dan: Thanks. Silly poem, but hopefully it helps the Eastern Star ladies sell more pies.
Yum!
Aurora: Thanks Aurora. Light[hearted it is. Glad you enjoyed Bottled Butterfly.
Now I want pie. 🙂
Light-hearted poem, Don. By the way, I finished Bottled Butterfly last night. You and your wife were right – it’s good! I’m now going to lend it out to a few people.
Floots: This poem was requested by this woman, Della, who wanted something to read at an honoring event for Eastern Star woman she works with. She wanted something light and funny. Pie does sound good though!!
Andrew: Thanks. Have a midnigt snack. A big dagwood sandwich!
the secret of pi(e) has always facinated me 🙂
This is the 2nd poem I’ve read tonight that are about food. It’s killing me! It’s 12:30 AM and is too late to eat! 🙂