@ Two Writing Teachers for hosting the Slice of Life Challenge 2013
To be fair, I have to give my dad some equal love and honor him with a good old days poem too...
Sometimes I remember
The good old days,
Dad working nights
And when he was off he was up!
Hearing the skillet rattle
Placed onto the stove in a clangy, unfamiliar way
Hunting for the lid
Shaking the kernels in the special popcorn jar
Oil poured in, greasing the skillet
Melting the butter right there with it
Kernels bouncing as they were dropped
Lid sealed tight
Pop, pop,
Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop,pop,
Kernels at war,
Kernels no more now crunchy popcorn for eating
And then the buttery smell
would fill the air
Tiptoe-ing out of bed and sneaking down the steps
Shading my eyes from the kitchen's bright light
Saying,
"I smell popcorn"
It just doesn't get any better
than Dad's home-made popcorn!
It just doesn't get any better
than Dad's home-made popcorn!
Popcorn popped on the stovetop is still the best! Thanks for sharing, Amy!
ReplyDeleteA memory of popcorn. A memory to warm the heart. Well constructed piece that was full of visual imagery Amy. I enjoyed it immensely.
ReplyDeleteThis is so fun! I think I'll have to make some popcorn tonight. Thanks for the inspiration!
ReplyDeleteOh...such memories of popping corn that way....not in the microwave. I can picture your dad in the kitchen...I can hear the popcorn popping...and ah...the smell of it....think I will get out a pan and pop me some now. Jackie http://familytrove.blogspot.com/
ReplyDeleteWhat a great memory! Late-night popcorn snack! I love the way you describe his movement in the kitchen as clangy and unfamiliar. Great word choice!
ReplyDeleteThe Good Old Days poems are awesome. Popcorn and pancakes. Pancakes were part of my childhood. Popcorn is something I tasted for the first time when I was 18 and visited USA for the first time.
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed this good ol' days poem. What a fun memory and the sensory details of smelling the popcorn made me hungry...there is popcorn everywhere in my school right now for a fundraiser, so I couldn't have read this at a better time. Better get myself some quarters quick!
ReplyDeleteMy dad's unfamiliar rattle was always on winter Sundays when he raided the refrigerator for leftovers of homegrown veggies and tossed them into a steaming pot of vegetable soup. It is the only thing I've ever seen him cook in nearly 50 years. I still love vegetable soup, and it seems especially "right" on cold Sunday afternoons. Thanks, Dad.
ReplyDeleteWonderful! I can so clearly picture those steps and the smell of popcorn!
ReplyDeleteOh my gosh, I can smell that popcorn. What a fun poem and a great way to remember the good old days!
ReplyDeleteSo simple. So elegant. A slice worth remembering!
ReplyDelete