|In the middle of the night with the sleep still in her eyes,
Pie-Ala Peach rose from bed so to bake a slew of pies.
Being just her and her tabby without a summer moon in sight,
beneath an August sky of stars, baking pies remained delight.
Out the window Pie-Ala gazed at the ebon starry sky;
then she set about her passion of preparing the first pie.
Apple pie her choice, and never did she have regret
because Pie-Ala Peach was one who did respect the alphabet.
Miss Pie-Ala rolled the dough on the counter near the sink;
In the silence of her kitchen she had time to think.
Granny Smith lived in the bin--so did Juicy Macintosh;
Peach stayed lost in thought until she uttered “ O my gosh!”
In the end she went Granny knowing it was smart;
but when she pealed a piece to taste she found Smith to be tart.
Still she liked the bitter taste, thinking it would go with sweet;
“My pies always are a hit!” Pie-Ala often would repeat.
Pie-Ala formed the apple pie then started on blueberry;
At half past two she poured the blue then she moved on to cherry.
She turned her oven up to speed then loaded it with pies;
Thus as the pies were baking, Peach beheld a new sunrise.
Pie scent wafted through the neighborhood like many times before;
soon her best friend, Sara Lee, was knocking at the door.
“Come in my friend, I’ve lots pies--do partake of each.”
Sara grinned then gushing said, “Pie-Ala, you’re a peach!”
August 2, 2013
First line begins: In the middle of the night