Hot pumpkin pie, melting ice cream, it always felt as if it were a piece of heaven upon my plate.
In the light of early evening in winter, the pumpkin pie became a pretty sunflower that had blossomed as it baked.
Pumpkin pie was such a staple of our Thanksgiving meals, that when its aroma filled the house my soul leapt for gratitude.
Pumpkin pie graced the table with its hue of golden brown, set within a rustic pastry, promising both flavour and a hearty warmth.
Pumpkin pie had a way of bringing a real sense of home, perhaps the fragrance brought happy memories to the fore, I'm not sure. Either way, it was a taste of both nostalgia and of the present joy.
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