What became of flour sifters,

Or a pastry cutter?

What became of homemade bread

Spread thick with homemade butter?

Homemade cakes and pies and such,

Alas, I cry forlorn,

What became of those old days

When store-bought stuff was scorned?

What became of biscuits, muffins,

Crispy apple strudels?

How I long for doughnuts, crullers,

And grammy’s homemade noodles!

I remember sweet aromas,

From still-warm apple pie,

And as I view is frozen sister,

I repress a sigh;

Modern times and modern days

Are here to stay, they say,

Yet how I long for just a sniff,

Of that old fashioned way!



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