No Expiration

 The Feathered Hat

In a world of disposables and a throw-away mentality,

It is comforting to know, some things don’t warrant a finality,

I am so thankful that some treasures are preserved,

So, we can enjoy them later, as they are well-deserved,

Of our fondness, as we stroll down memory lane,

I am speaking about vintage things that still remain,

Like the hats my mother wore in the mid-century years, 

During spring-cleaning, it is amazing what appears!

I found these tucked away in the original tattered, Sears hatbox,

In the top of my closet... if only I could turn back the clock,

To see my mother adorn these hats would be a gift,

I inquired of her to tell me the stories and her response was swift,

There was the feathered headpiece with netting, so divine,

The story behind it was a favorite of mine,

Mother conveyed the time she wore it to a TN football game “ages ago”,

If only we had a photo of that day: she with her beau,

She wore a green suite, lizard heels and a matching handbag,

“Made in Italy” was still on the inside tag,

Quite fancy I think for this girl who grew up poor on the farm,

Bet she was proud of her look, as she took him by the arm,

“In those days, we dressed up for the games”, she said,

I was intrigued by how that tradition had fled,

I couldn’t be happier the hats were kept for another generation,

Some things, you know, have no expiration!

Tammy Harvey

Written: 4/28/2021

Journey not Destination

 Explorer (Grayson)

A 20-month-old touches everything in sight,

Everything is fresh and new, and he tries with all his might,

To take everything in- that nature has in store,

His Gigi, that’s me, enjoyed watching him explore,

On the short walk to the playground, I would soon ascertain,

The sidewalk wasn’t wide enough to keep his curiosity contained:

Tree bark, a stick, a signpost, a lock, a fence, a rock, a sewer drain,

Electrical boxes and water meters intrigued his little brain,

Birds chirping and airplanes flying above did not escape his inquisition,

The closed swimming pool and bike rack were also supposition,

Mounds of mulch around each small tree and straps to hold them straight,

Were points of interest to him, before reaching the playground gate,

Well, rain had fallen earlier, and the equipment was soaking wet,

He stood atop the slide and contemplated “Ready, Set…”,

But “Go” did not follow as he wiped the water with his hand,

I helped him down the steps because it was too slippery to stand,

And we headed back for home, him in constant exploration,

The adventure was the journey...and not the destination,

He stopped for a picture holding firmly to a metal sign,

“Cheese” he said joyfully, but the joy was all mine,

Tammy Harvey

Written:  3/25/21

A Hop, Skip and Jump

Hopscotch
A little girl sat on the front porch steps, her chin in her hands,
She gazed at the end of the driveway- where the mailbox stands,
She ran inside and brought out a box of colored chalk,
She had an idea concerning the plain sidewalk,
On the concrete, beside the mailbox, she drew,
A multi-colored series of hopscotch squares, beneath the sky so blue,
Returning to the front porch perch, she curiously watched for when,
An unsuspecting pedestrian would pass by again,
A jogger was the first to make an appearance in front of her house,
But scurried on by like a frightened field mouse,
Probably didn’t see the hopscotch anyway,
She was disappointed, but waited patiently all day,
A dog-walker came next, and more of the same,
He did not take a turn at the hopscotch game,
A mother with a baby stroller also passed hurriedly by,
And the little girl was about to give up and/or cry,
When the familiar mailman who waved to her most every day,
Put the mail in the box and decided to play,
He hopped, skipped and jumped through the hopscotch like an ace,
Which put a great big smile on the young girl’s face.
Take time to hopscotch, every once in a while,
Don’t miss a chance to make someone smile!
Tammy Harvey
Written: 3/24/2021

The First Thump

 Picking Blueberries 

There’s no better sound than the first thump of a blueberry hitting the bottom of my cup, 

I reached into the bush to gently pull a cluster off, releasing more thump, thump, thump, 

As the cup slowly filled, however, the sound became much quieter and then still, 

And the peacefulness covered me like a warm blanket, if you will, 

Plump, ripe blue morsels were mesmerizing, as the green ones I overlooked, 

Eating them right off the branch is a liberty I always took, 

I gained much satisfaction from methodically filling my cup to the brim, 

It was a magical time, as I moved from stem to stem, 

A task, yes, but more like a fun time of adventure, 

And unlike blackberries, there were no thorns to censure, 

Although poison ivy was lurking at my ankles, I dare say, 

I was faithfully committed to picking anyway, 

Ever so slowly, the harvest started to mound, 

A few of them naturally fell to the ground, 

But sooner or later my task was done,

 And the joy in my heart was an immeasurable one, 

Who would have thought a full cup would feel so great, 

So when blueberry-picking time arrives, I won’t hesitate. 

Tammy Harvey 

Written: 4/27/2021

Confused and Amused

 

“Where it go?”

Fingerprints on the window and nose smudges on the glass,

The little boy was waiting patiently for the backyard train to pass,

We thought we had heard that familiar rumbling sound,

And with wonder and excitement, his eyes became big and round!

Anticipation was written all over his little face,

An incredible memory for me, that years could not erase,

As we heard the distant sound of the whistle blow: “toot, toot”!

The closer to the window the little boy did scoot,

In fact, he ended up standing right in the windowsill,

With sheer determination, and a smile from ear to ear,

He turned to me as if to say: what is taking it so long?

But his patience was astounding, because I was very wrong,

It did not pass behind my house this time, as every day it did,

 The train we had heard was on a different track instead,

He put his little hands up in the air; his expression was confused,

In his tiny toddler voice said: “Where it go?”- I was amused,

But also disappointed that my grandson saw no train,

It was a novelty to have a backyard track, sure to entertain,

It was later in the day, when my grandson was napping,

That the backyard train came by, clippity-clapping,

The time spent with grandchildren make priceless memories,

I hope that I experience many more of these!

Tammy Harvey (GiGi)- Grayson at 19 months

Written:  3/18/2021                      

Seek and Ye Shall Find

 

Dragonfly Visit

Wagon pulled by the bright orange tractor couldn’t be finer,

To a little boy sitting high on a hay bale, like it was a recliner,

A hayride in March, at an orchard, with white apple blossoms abundant,

As were the pink peach blooms, without being redundant,

Listening and looking for song birds, that was our mission,

As we bumped along the unpaved path, under muddy conditions,

The freshly cut grass gave a pungent smell,

A sunny, spring morning had us under its spell,

An unsuspecting dragonfly gently landed on the boy’s lap,

We both recognized that it wasn’t a random mishap,

The dragonfly then perched comfortably on the board beside us,

We didn’t disturb him at all or make a big fuss,

There with his compound eyes and wax paper-like wings he sat,

And rode the rest of the hayride just like that,

When the tractor had stopped, and all the children were off,

He climbed onto my finger for a photo opp,

Then he took off in flight as quickly as he came,

And we knew that this day would not be the same,

The boy looked at me with his big grandpa-blue eyes,

And said, “Bet that was Grandpa, in disguise”,

Grandpa’s up in heaven, but comes down for a visit,

If we keep our eyes open and truly believe in it.

Tammy Harvey

Written: 4/6/2021  

Astonishing Boy

 

Like Father, Like Son

On a spring morning, bright and sunny,

My four-year old grandson did something I found funny,

In a park, he was running around like a bat out of you-know-where,

He was wild and free, without a care,

Then suddenly like a strike of lightning,

He stopped and sat down; it was a little frightening,

With crisscrossed legs, he sat completely still,

Then touching his thumbs to his middle fingers, which took some skill,

He gently placed the back of his palms onto the bends of each knee,

And closed his eyes; it was astonishing to me!

It lasted only a few seconds and then,

He popped right up and looked at me with a grin,

“Just doing a little meditation”, he said,

My thoughts were “you’re just like your father, Ted”,

Who as a boy, always kept our family entertained,

His imagination and charm were uncontained,

An unfamiliar boy joined the empty playground,

My grandson excitedly ran over to the new friend he had found,

“My name is Charles Edward Harvey; What’s your name?”, I heard him say,

“Nice to meet you, you want to play?”

Again, so personable, just like his Dad,

To be part of his day had made me so glad!

Tammy Harvey

Written:  3/14/2021