Waiting
for this bounty
My Grandma
used to say
Nothing
like fresh peaches
She'd send
me out each day
Waited for
perfection
Then when
the day arrived
I picked
them for her swiftly
I knew
of her surprise
Busy in
her kitchen
Rolling
pin in hand
Flour all
around her
For hours
she would stand
I'd peel
the peaches for her
She'd put
them in a bowl
Now I can't
tell ingredients
I have
to keep control
But oh that
smell was heaven
It wafted
through the door
The neighbors
all were knocking
They knew
this joy for sure
Grandma
she was pleasant
She offered
them a chair
The peaches
were delightful
Her pie
still fills the air.
~ Francine Pucillo ~
© used with permission
To visit her site
Clcik on star above
