All About Pocket Knives

Thanks Buddy! Glad you enjoyed it my friend!

Did it again! Wrote another knife poem. This one is about an old Robi Klaas Kissing Crane that showed up yesterday. These things just happen.



"My New EDC"

A little carried,
A little used,
A little beaten,
But not abused,

A little crack,
Down by the pin,
Welcome Home,
My Brand New Friend!


©By: Thomas DeVore
July 13th, 2021
22:30 P.M.

Some song lyrics that were never published. My father's family is from Wyoming County, West Virginia. While they have always done very well as teachers and business people, the area has some of the deepest poverty I've ever seen. Joan and I drove through some nearby towns and saw house-trailers with the aluminum stripped of and scrapped, the insulation batting held in with twine.

The Leaving

By the light at his father's kitchen table
He said, "Dad, I can't stand this anymore
So I'll be going just as soon as I am able"
And his eyes could barely see the kitchen floor.

All his life he had watched his father labor
Knew the pain from his mother's weary eyes
Every year they'd be goin' to friends and neighbors
For a loan or a handout, to get by

"Oh Mom, it kills me to be going,
Do you think that I'd want to leave my home?"
"There's no work, and I can't stay beholdin'
To the ones here a' strugglin' for their own."

Many years in this valley folks were busy
They never dreamed those mines and mills would fail
Come hard time all their hope had gone to misery
Staring out now across those rusty rails.

Lookin' back just to see the wood smoke rising
He turned and drove on down that dusty lane
In his heart burned a question, not surprising
"Will I ever, come down this road again?"

J.O'.

A though provoking piece, Ridgegrass.
There are some politicians who should read this.
Treefarmer

Ridgegrass wrote: ↑Wed Jul 14, 2021 7:03 pm Joan and I drove through some nearby towns and saw house-trailers with the aluminum stripped of and scrapped, the insulation batting held in with twine.

The sort of thing that shouldn't happen in America, and a sad consequence of people being paranoid about climate change.

treefarmer wrote: ↑Wed Jul 14, 2021 8:41 pm A though provoking piece, Ridgegrass.
There are some politicians who should read this.

Yes indeed!

Sorry to be a bummer!
Here's one we (Good Deale Bluegrass) recorded in '07.
Wrote it for my Joanie. Happy and sappy!

Back When I Was Learnin'.

Now back when I was learnin', way back when my thoughts were churnin',
At a time when I was yearnin' just to have someone like you
Back when my heart was burnin' and my wheels were really turnin'
Way back when I was learnin' just to love you like I do

You were country and so pretty, and I was from the city
You were down in Sussex County on your Mama's little farm.
From the moment I first saw you I just had to get to know you
And when I did I found my heart was taken by a storm

Lots of pretty girls had thrilled me, and some had darn near killed me
And I was really livin', runnin' hard and fast and wild
All the love that I was tastin' was just time that I was wastin'
Till I slowed down to understand the magic in your smile

Well that was back when I was learnin' and this old world kept turnin'
And I wondered was it possible to love one through and through
So I'll just keep on tryin' till the day that I lay dyin'
Just yearnin', burnin', learnin' , just to love you like I do.

J.O'.

TPK wrote: ↑Wed Jul 14, 2021 4:35 pm Did it again! Wrote another knife poem. This one is about an old Robi Klaas Kissing Crane that showed up yesterday. These things just happen.



"My New EDC"

A little carried,
A little used,
A little beaten,
But not abused,

A little crack,
Down by the pin,
Welcome Home,
My Brand New Friend!


©By: Thomas DeVore
July 13th, 2021
22:30 P.M.

Tom, your poem is right on target describing my love for HOKs. Just can't beat an old, solid, well made pocket knife!
Thanks for expressing thoughts that I could never put together as you did.
Treefarmer

treefarmer wrote: ↑Thu Jul 15, 2021 12:06 pm

TPK wrote: ↑Wed Jul 14, 2021 4:35 pm Did it again! Wrote another knife poem. This one is about an old Robi Klaas Kissing Crane that showed up yesterday. These things just happen.

"My New EDC"

A little carried,
A little used,
A little beaten,
But not abused,

A little crack,
Down by the pin,
Welcome Home,
My Brand New Friend!


©By: Thomas DeVore
July 13th, 2021
22:30 P.M.

Tom, your poem is right on target describing my love for HOKs. Just can't beat an old, solid, well made pocket knife!
Thanks for expressing thoughts that I could never put together as you did.
Treefarmer

Thanks Philip! I really appreciate that you appreciate it.

To me, sometimes ya get an older knife and it's nice but it's just another EDC. And then some other times they have a special feel to em. Like a posative energy. IMO. This one has a very nice posative energy about it IMO. I'm looking forward to carrying it next week. Glad you liked my poem.

"Three little birds on the wall."
(A poem about swallows.)

Three little birds on the wall,
They squirm & they chirp & they call,
I can't stand to watch,
I'm affraid they might fall,
Three little birds on the wall.

The cat sits just five feet away,
Licking his lips the whole day,
Watching & waiting,
Hoping they'll fall,
Three little birds on the wall.

Me & three kids & my spouse,
Live in a small little house,
Our dog & three cats,
And I think theres a mouse,
And theres three little birds on the wall.

©By: Thomas DeVore
August 10th, 2021
06:05 A.M

Great poem, Tom. Probably not the best of places for mama bird to build her nest, though...

Dan In MI wrote: ↑Tue Aug 10, 2021 7:14 pm Great poem, Tom. Probably not the best of places for mama bird to build her nest, though...

Nope! It's on the top corner of a window. Our cat Pepsi sits on the window ledge watching them all day. Hope none of them ever fall out of the nest or it's game over.

TPK wrote: ↑Tue Aug 10, 2021 6:32 pm "Three little birds on the wall."
(A poem about swallows.)

Three little birds on the wall,
They squirm & they chirp & they call,
I can't stand to watch,
I'm affraid they might fall,
Three little birds on the wall.

The cat sits just five feet away,
Licking his lips the whole day,
Watching & waiting,
Hoping they'll fall,
Three little birds on the wall.

Me & three kids & my spouse,
Live in a small little house,
Our dog & three cats,
And I think theres a mouse,
And theres three little birds on the wall.

©By: Thomas DeVore
August 10th, 2021
06:05 A.M

These little swallows sure grow up fast. Won't be long untill they leave the nest I guess. Could only catch one on camera but there are still 3 of them in the nest. Here are some pictures I took today.

"The Thirty First of August"

No I did not work today,
So please do beg my pardon,
I was spending precious time,
With my dog out in the garden.

There are roses & sunflowers,
We could just sit there for hours,
Butterflies, birds & bees,
A few cheeries in the trees.

And It's ok, I asume,
If the weeds all choose to blum,
It's the least that I can do,
So my neighbors have weeds too.

Now it looks like April showers,
And it's been that way for hours,
But we did not get made wet,
And we did not break a sweat.

We just sat here a few hours,
With the birds & bees & flowers,
And there's no work we can do,
Till the weeds no longer blum.

©By: Thomas DeVore
August 31st, 2021
17:00 P.M.

In early October my Sweetheart, Susan, passed away in the arms of the Lord.
I wrote this little poem for her obituary.

A Rose has passed
A Rose has passed,
Swept up in Heavens fold,
Her kindly grace will be no more
but in our hearts to hold.
A Rose has passed
A Rose has passed,
A light of Love to close,
Forever on the arm of Him
in Heavens dear repose.

That is a very beautiful and poignant poem.

Beautiful words my friend.

Sorry to hear of your loss my friend.

Your words are very fine Joe. Well done.

FRJ wrote: ↑Thu Nov 04, 2021 2:48 pm In early October my Sweetheart, Susan, passed away in the arms of the Lord.
I wrote this little poem for her obituary.

A Rose has passed
A Rose has passed,
Swept up in Heavens fold,
Her kindly grace will be no more
but in our hearts to hold.
A Rose has passed
A Rose has passed,
A light of Love to close,
Forever on the arm of Him
in Heavens dear repose.

So lovely and sad at the same time.

I've written a few over the years. Not at all cheerful like Tom's great lines, mine are usually a product of grieving. Here's one I wrote when my mother-in-law passed back in 2007. She was a fine woman, mother, Nana, and not at all like you always hear how MIL can be.



I walked along a forest path, worn well by the years
I searched in vain for someone, as I tried to hold back tears
In solitude I strained my ears, hoping to hear your voice
But you were taken from us, and it wasn’t by your choice

I walked along a wave-soaked beach, in the morning air
Trying to find some footprints, that I knew would not be there
For like some fading memory, that just gets washed away
The waves erased your footprints, and did not let you stay

I walked along an old dirt road, calling out to you
Pebbles crunching underfoot as the day began anew
But like some runner in a race, failing to reach the end
The search will go on all the longer, trying to find my friend

I climbed some stony chapel steps,
and knelt at an altar to pray
I questioned why God would do this,
to take such a great woman away
But there is no answer to satisfy,
as I look to the heavens above
I guess God needed Judy beside him,
to help fill the world with love

G.T.

Both heart filled and we'll written Glenngood.

doglegg wrote: ↑Fri Nov 05, 2021 1:18 pm Both heart filled and we'll written Glenngood.

I agree.

Sad, but you have a wonderful way with words Glenn.

Very cool that you & Joe let us read such touching, private words of thought. Poems have always been an outlet for my feelings. Happy or Sad.