THANKS

                                                          Thanks


   For the grains of paradise in apple pie,
   Golden light on blush green peels,
   Fakey crust in a red box because I am inept,
   The smell of brown sugar and lemon juice,
   Efforts to core and seed but leaving one accidentally
   Knowing it is OK because,
   Thank You, apple seeds are good for us.

   Cinnamon flakes butter
  A deep round receptacle flaunting its fluted edge.
   The pressure within the bird sings,
   For the bubbling goodness is too much to keep inside.

   Thanks for making us wait for the baking, the heat
   That produces a tender product,
   Cool lady-in-waiting, bright-eyed Anticipation,
   Perfumes the kitchen tablecloth while
   We imitate the watching,
   We pine for the goodness of apple pie.

   We find we are more patient now,
   More mature by delay.

   And thanks for the sharp pitch of cheddar
   Also ice cream and friends with whom to share.
   You are good, God.
   Thanks.