Reader’s Poetry

By Staff

Ontario Canada

Ezra Jones was a legend in days gone by
He had this thing about eating pie,
He’d still be eating when the rest were through
Just any kind of pies would do.

Breakfast he ate with apparent zest
At the table long before the rest,
Six eggs with bacon and golden fries
Then a dozen pieces of assorted pies.

Ezra was tall and lanky and thin
With a Roman nose and a pointed chin
Standing six ft. 2′ in his stocking feet,
He didn’t eat to live, he lived to eat.

He had pie for breakfast and pie for lunch
He always had pie for his Sunday Brunch
In your whole life you never saw such a guy,
People swore his middle name was pie.

When Ezra was part of a threshing crew,
He was something to watch I’m telling you
The hired girl had blisters on her feet
Just from carrying the pie for this man to eat.

He liked to start with a good hot Mince,
Then on through Raisin, Rhubarb & Quince,
While the crew drank their coffee & shot the breeze
He’d consume 4 apple pies and a pound of cheese.

He went to supper in the old church hall,
And sat at a table against the wall
The boys said ‘Hey now’ Just for a treat,
Lets see how much pie old Ezra can eat.

Complete with cream, one Pumpkin pie,
Disappeared in the twinkling of an eye,
Then came Cherry & Custard, Lemon &. Lime,
All going down one piece at a time.

Raspberry, Strawberry, Blueberry, Cream,
Ezra still eating pie with a full head of steam,
He ate till the cupboards were all bare and dry,
Nothing was left, not one piece of pie.

He thanked them most kindly
Then with a tear in his eye
Said, there’s one thing I’d like
Before the day I must die,
I have always dreamt it would be Oh so neat,
If someone would bake all the pie I could eat.

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