I was hungry when I wrote this, it was also very early in the morning; so please alert me of any mistakes. I hope you enjoy this food poem!

Within the crumble
The smell of apples arises
Making my stomach rumble.

An egg, some flour, and milk
Mixed together then laid out,
The dough is like silk.

The it's time for the filling;
Freshly picked apples,
In the Orchard, children are milling.

Into the crust the filling goes,
Looking tasty,
The smell pampering my nose.

After the oven dings,
I reach inside and pull out the pie,
Just as the doorbell rings.