Egg Custard Pie
One creamy, yellow slice of egg custard pie,
freckled with a soft sprinkle of nutmeg,
sitting in the bakery case at the diner,
reminds me of childhood summers:
of blue sky days and morning glory ways;
of laundry on the line, drying in the breeze;
and dandelions and clover
dancing to the rumblings of the honeybees.
Out of breath from racing our bikes home,
we take a break on the porch.
We sip lemonade over ice
and watch wispy, white clouds drift by.
We know all is good and all is right
because Mom has just handed us each a plate
with a slice of her homemade egg custard pie,
still warm (topped with whipped cream---piled high.)
I get to be first - hurray. Love love the poem. Again u have a way of bringing back magical memories of childhood. We had our local bakery where every saturday morning my sis and I would walk up to Finklemeyer's bakery and get chocolate long johns. Memories of lying in the grass looking up through the filtered light of the tree leaves...Gosh I would love to relive a few moments of my childhood ...maybe once a month would be nice .....At least your poetry takes me back.ReplyDelete
oops maybe i'm not first and u just haven't published them yet, lol. oh well one can hope;))ReplyDelete
Wow, love this.. It brings back lots of memories. Thank you so much.ReplyDelete
Egg custard ~ yum, yum ~ one of my favorites. Loved this! You're so good at writing poems!ReplyDelete
Oh my goodness! That brings back memories!ReplyDelete
Blessings to you this Sunday. I love the poem. Nothing better than warm egg custard!ReplyDelete
I love this poem Daisy, it was a wonderful walk down memory lane... remembering how we rode our bikes everywhere and watched clouds in the sky... homemade pie is so yummy and custard pie was always delicious xoxReplyDelete
Neat poetry and memories! I can almost taste that pie!ReplyDelete
rumblings of honey bees and racing bikes......oh you capture youth and summer so well. Your poem postings have been gems. ThanksReplyDelete
Lovely. Your poem evokes so many childhood memories.ReplyDelete
BUT, I hope you are satisfied, young lady! Thanks to YOU, I'm gonna have to make an egg custard pie today. (Oh, darn. Throw me in the brier patch...)
Oh that brings me to memory lanr. I thjnk I miss egg custard pie-not any which I can buy here but the one from my childhood. Another beautiful poem.ReplyDelete
OK - it was hard to read this... because I am so hungry right now!! Damn :)ReplyDelete
You made my stomach rumble even more.
You are an absolute wordsmith xxx
My mom use to make egg custard. Remember those brown custard cups? Warm from the oven with homemade whipped cream....MMMMMMM... I can almost taste it!!!ReplyDelete
Sounds like a wonderful treat for the palate and heart. This was delightful, Daisy. Those were the days.ReplyDelete
I love this poem. I also love egg custard pie. You have captured so beautifully the good old days. Love this poem!
Never tried this dessert, Daisy, but your post makes me wish I had!ReplyDelete
I want a piece! Your poem sounds so delicious! Love it. Have a great weekend!ReplyDelete
Wow, wonderful memories!ReplyDelete
And I love custard pie or in a cup.
Thank you all for your kind comments. I haven't had egg custard pie for years, but I might have to make one after realizing how many memories I have connected to it.ReplyDelete