Homemade Happiness

A get-together on Sunday past
Dinner eaten way too fast
Nothing ever seems to last
With plans made to divert

Then the oven door is open wide
The aroma drifts all inside
People stop in their stride
As if on high alert

Oven gloves on each hand
Fragrance warmth from the fan
Noses turn as eyes scan
When they start to revert

A slice is served on each plate
Suddenly they all can wait
No one cares if they're late
As knives and forks insert

Silence almost fills the air
Excepts for mmmmm's here and there
Bodies relaxed in their chair
With apple pie dessert