PiE - A poem by Anika Creek

"Crust."
"Filling."
"Topping!"
"Flour!"
"Apples."
"Bananas!"
"Lime?"
"Too sour."

"Yeast?"
"A tad."
"Oven?"
"Yeah!"
"Done yet?"
"Of course not!"
"Now?"
"You bet."

"Wait!"
"What now?"
"Too hot."
"Aw man!"
"Flip it
 and turn it
 right outta
 the pan."

"Now, I will
 taste it
 and gulp it
 all down.
 Get outta
 my kitchen.
 Quit wearing
 that frown."

"Mmmmm... Scrumptididdlyumtious!"
--
A.C.