Happy Father’s Day to all you dads out there! You don’t have to be a father to be an influencer in someone else’s life. It is the simple loving things that are done in our lives that matter most and make the biggest impact. Little things like pocket knives and peanuts.

Pocket Knife & Peanuts

One raised brow, a big wide grin,
he gently wiped the blade,
closed it up, bid it bye, slipped in pants next to his thigh.
Pocket knife and peanuts gave me such a sugar high.

He took it from his pocket,
and opened up the blade.
He grabbed the Coke, popped off the cap,
while sitting in the shade.
The little pack of Planters
didn’t look like much a prize.
But then, he took a swig, slit the bag,
and poured peanuts in to rise.

One raised brow, a big wide grin,
he gently wiped the blade,
closed it up, bid it bye, slipped in pants next to thigh.
Pocket knife and peanuts gave me such a sugar high.

Yes, pocketknives and peanuts are
now many long years past,
Memories of my mom and dad and
things far gone alas!
But every time I think of dad
I can’t help but remember.

One raised brow, a big wide grin,
and how he’d gently wipe the blade,
He’s close it up, drop it down and say,
Pocket knife and peanuts….
until another day.

My dad rolled in, and dumped his load
of glass and heavy metal.
My mom glanced up, gave him “the look”
of instant disapproval.
“Oh, now Dee, don’t be that way”,
was his response to her.
He slipped out his trusty pocket knife,
and  fixed our peanut roaster.

He cut open the Croker sack, and
loaded bin with goobers. 
The peanut smell now filled the air,
as one by one rolled over.
The bell went off, we cracked them hot,
the most delicious earth balls ever!

One raised brow, a big wide grin,
he gently wiped the blade,
closed it up, slipped it back inside, it ain’t no lie.
Pocket knife and peanuts
gave me such a super high.

Out back “The Stand” he loaded more,
kindling and wood upon the fire.
Grandma’s big black cauldron bubbled
with peanuts boiling higher.
He slipped out his handy pocket knife and
picked open Morton’s salt.
He poured it on top, until we thought,
that it would never stop.

He walked inside and grabbed a hand full
of Jalapenos hot.
He sliced them and he diced them
and then he threw them in the pot!

One raised brow, a big wide grin,
he gently wiped the blade.
He closed it up, and dropped it down.
Pocket knife and peanuts,
gave me such a sweltering high.

Yes, pocket knives and peanuts are
now many long years past,
Memories of my mom and dad and
things far gone alas!
But every time I think of dad
I can’t help but remember;

One raised brow, a big wide grin,
and how he’d gently wipe the blade,
He’s close it up, drop it down…and say,

Yes, pocket knife and peanuts….
until another day.

For His glory,

Marlene Hoenig, Mentor, Counselor, Writer
http://CinderellaReleased.org