Reaching into the past
Grandma’s cookbook to see
If there is a recipe to make love last
Looking through pages
torn and soaked
With grease and spills of tears and oil
Love was spent looking, wondering
Was there a recipe that would do the trick
Something to make him see it was she that he would pick
Flipping page upon page to see
If a raisin pie recipe was in there for me
To satisfy with sweet and spice
To bake it up just right
Your grandma and mine, were just about
The same it seems , they knew
Raisin pie was the real apple
In the garden on the eve
Of love and hope
Grandma did it right, she knew
Looked right down, she winked and blew
So pages flew
Turning to
Raisin pie, held for decades
Clues crusted over
Raisin pie, grandma and you
