Comments about Llewelyn Griffiths
Pies churned out nineteen to the dozen.
5 dozen meat pies lay upon the work surface
Line after line of pies
marching to there doom
Every pie representing a human.
She looked down upon her fingers
They were worked to the bone
Her knees were shaking under the pressure
She was sick of pies,
But continued she did
Because she loved her husband so.
8 dozen pies now
getting closer to their demise
A steady fleet of customers trickled ...