Ode To Apple Pie Poem by John Leroy Maxwell

The Bards of old, in verse have told
of lovers bold and gay
Of Lochinvar and his guiding star, and
their dash O'er the highland brae
Of Romeo and Othello, of war and
battle cry
Oh, let me sing of a Plebian thing,
in my Ode To Apple Pie
The Poets tell of the binding spell,
of the villains evil look
Of warriors tried, who fought and died,
on the banks of a babbling brook
Of prisoners led to dungeon's dread,
to pine away and die
Oh, let me sing of a pleasanter thing,
in my Ode To Apple Pie
Time takes all, both great and small,
the old Bards have passed away
And in their place stands another race,
the Bards of the present day
But still their lay is far away, from
the things for which I sigh
The tales they tell may all be well,
but give me Apple Pie
So through this life of pain and strife,
Of toil and struggle for gold
Of changing scenes and new machines, of
trouble new and old
Of the endless race to hold our place,
and to keep on 'getting by'-
It wouldn't be bad, if we always had,
Plenty of Apple Pie
And when at last our day is passed,
and we climb the Golden Stair
And we look and see our reward to be,
for trying to do our share
There'll be harps and wings and other
things, and joys that never die
And in that day, I hope and pray,
there'll be plenty of Apple Pie