HOME IS WHERE THE PIE IS
Reading edition
“Home is where the heart is”—
Thus the poet sang;
But “home is where the pie is”
For the doughboy gang.
Crullers in the craters
Pastry in abris—
Our Salvation Army lass
Sure knows how to please.
Watch her roll the pie crust
Mellower than gold;
Watch her place it neatly
Within its ample mold;
Sniff the grand aroma
While it slowly bakes—
Though the whine of Minnie shells
Echoes far awakes.
Tin hat for a halo!
Ah, she wears it well!
15Making pies for homesick lads
Sure is “beating hell”;
In a region blasted
By fire and flame and sword,
Our Salvation Army lass
Battles for the Lord!
Call me sacrilegious,
And irreverent, too;
Pies? They link us up with home
As naught else can do!
“Home is where the heart is”—
True, the poet sang;
But “home is where the pie is”
To the Yankee gang!
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