Dear Forestdawn,
OOOOooooo I want to go there, to Gradma's house, cause it always
smelled like cinnamon. Just the thought! What a special poem in tribute to Gradma, and those pies! I can only imagine. Oh, if I could only order two home-made apple pies, that are crisping behind her oven door. I think I am drooling now!! LOL!!
And right behind
her oven door
The apple pies would crisp.
Oh that is such a beautifully delicious verse. You definitely were right about this poem. LOL!! Your poetry is 100% wholesome, rich, refreshing, feel good kind of poems. After a hard day's work, I should read a Forestdawn poem to poetically soothe the hecticness away, and slowly tranform into the calm, serene, wholesomness of your tranquil poems. A must read to lift ones spirits!!!!!
Painted Diary aka Kim