Not by sight

Keep the faith

Faith is belief in things unseen,

Faith is confidence, if you know what I mean,

It lives embedded deep inside,

In our hearts it does reside,

Assurance about what we do not see,

Faith fosters hope for you and me,

Faith is being certain and seizing power,

Faith is bold, it does not cower,

It knows what it knows, without a doubt,

Faith makes us want to scream and shout,

About the Way, the Truth, and the Light,

We walk by faith and not by sight.

Tammy Harvey

Written:  April 12, 2017

Yesteryears for tomorrow

Tomorrow’s Yesteryears

I want to live in a Norman Rockwell world,

Where all hearts swell with pride when the flag is unfurled,

Where wholesomeness is considered the example,

Where small town communities and kindness are ample,

Where family and friendships are held in high esteem,

And a simple life is filled with extraordinary dreams,

Where there is appreciation for people of all races,

And when dinner is served, they always say grace,

Where childhood is innocent, and there is respect for elders,

Where hard work is revered: whether coal miners or welders,

Where the truth is found in a worn, tattered Bible,

Where neighbor helps neighbor, no one is libel,

Where good clean fun is had while pitching horseshoes,

And on Sunday, the churchgoers fill up the pews,

I want this for me, for you and for all generations,

An idealistic, heartwarming set of traditions,

A picture-perfect life is not possible, we all know,

But a Norman Rockwell world is a hope for tomorrow.

Tammy Harvey

Written:  April 26, 2017

Norman Rockwell has always been my favorite artist since I was a teen. 

Handbag Heaven

Old Purses
Purse, pocketbook, handbag: call it what you will,
Styles are endless and to buy one a thrill,
But I prefer the old purses, the vintage ones I seek,
If I could go back in time I’d like to take a peek,
For inside the bag I imagine I would find,
A neat clean embroidered handkerchief… I can see it in my mind,
A compact with mirror for powdering the nose,
And a favorite tube of lipstick, the color of a rose,
Purses so dainty and ladylike, they put new ones to shame,
With a kissing lock closure and a metal hinged frame,
The frame style, my favorite, rectangular and thin,
And a rayon lining sewn neatly within,
Made from genuine leather, polished to perfection,
I’d sure like to add one to my collection.
Tammy Harvey
Written: 5/4/2017

This vintage alligator bag was my Aunt Dorothy's.

What does the fox say?

Mama Fox outstays her welcome:

A fox family took up residence in our backyard,
A red mama fox, just took over, without regard,
She dug up under our storage shed,
It’s there she decided to make her bed,
She feeds and nurtures her three baby kits,
Hunting for prey to shred into bits,
The babies come out to get some sun,
They jump and roll, having lots of fun,
During the night, they cry eerie baby sounds,
We are not so sure about having them around,
Yet, a new fox family shows up every year,
They come and go with little or no fear,
It is amusing to watch them scurry about,
It’s quite entertaining, there’s no doubt,
But now we’d like our shed vacated,
It is time the foxes were eradicated,
So, here's a message, without being caddy,
Mama fox, go find your babies’ daddy!!
Tammy Harvey
Cowritten with Ted Harvey
May 7, 2017

Can he measure up?

Inchworm

Ever watched an inchworm travelling along?

Up down, up down, like the tempo of a song,

Slowly but surely, he makes his way,

Even if… it takes him… all day,

Like the tortoise racing with the hare,

He inches along, without a care,

Steadily, he bends his body into two,

Then stretches out straight again like inchworms always do,

Legs on the front and legs in the back, with none in-between,

This worm is not a worm at all; he’s a caterpillar of green,  

He is the larvae of a geometer moth, to be exact,

To watch him relocate is fun- now that’s an honest fact!

Why does he insist on measuring every path he takes?

Because he is an inchworm, of course, for goodness’sakes!

Tammy Harvey

Written:  5/8/17

Hush Little Baby

Watching our son and his wife slowly grow into their role as new parents for the last 5 months inspired this poem:

First-time Parents

Always, never, sometimes, maybe

Ambiguity is certain when you have a baby,

No instruction booklet is provided,

If it were, would the crying have subsided?

The parents’ tears...I am saying,

They are stressed, worried, pacing and praying,

But alongside the fear of the unknown,

The certainty is that their confidence has grown,

They slowly are becoming relaxed in their new role,

Feeling comfortable, being responsible for their little soul,

At first, unsure and unaware of what to expect,

Quickly followed by experience and a new sense of respect,

It’s a journey with lots of learning, trial by fire,

It’s a sleep-deprived journey, bound to make them tire,

Yet it is the most important and satisfying job they will do,

Raising a baby to adulthood is a successful career for two.

Tammy Harvey

Written: 5/21/2017

Nature's Perfume

This poem is for Carlie Rose, who introduced me to this meaningful word.

Petrichor

I learned a new word today:  Petrichor,

It’s a noun; it’s interesting; but there’s more,

It is a favorite scent of mine, that I didn’t know had a name,

When you know the definition, you may feel the same,

Petrichor is the earthy scent produced when rain falls on dry soil,

It is a farmer’s dream, rewarding months of his toil,

You know that smell:  it is fresh and clean,

Like newly laundered bedsheets, if you know what I mean,

It is a perfume to nature-loving gals like me,

It brings about a feeling of serenity,

I learned a new word today:  Petrichor,

It’s a noun; it’s interesting; need I say more?

Tammy Harvey

Written:  5/24/2017

A Masterpiece

Paint-By-Number

After the school year had ended, and it was officially summertime,

We ventured out to look around our local five and dime,

We needed to buy something fun, yet time-consuming,

Something creative, detailed and unassuming,

A paint-by-number kit was what we would buy,

It kept us so busy, the time would just fly,

We sat by the window sill with the light coming in,

And opened the box up while starting to grin,

A fresh set of paints came with every new kit,

A beautiful blank painting, and a paintbrush- that was it,

A small cup of water we knew we would need,

To clean out our brush before we’d proceed,

To paint another color, then wait for it to dry,

And if we made a mistake, we wanted to cry,

Our masterpieces made us happy, and very proud,

It was a simple activity, not rowdy or loud,

We spent hours and days until it was painted completely,

Feeling accomplished at how we had painted so neatly,

The lazy days of summer when we weren’t in school,

Was the time of the year when paint-by-number would rule!

Tammy Harvey

Written:  April 15, 2017

Lucky charm

Prayer is your lucky charm.

“Luck”

Some may wish on shooting stars,

Some may cling to lucky charms,

Some may look for 4-leaf clover,

Searching for them over and over,

Waiting for their luck to change,

Others find this very strange,

Joints are aching, it will rain,

Knife under mattress, cuts the pain,

Old wives tales are fun to quote,

Or whatever floats your boat.

Superstition has no place,

If you’re trying to save face,

The only time you can believe it,

Is when you pray for God to seize it,

He can change your “luck” for you,

If you simply ask him to.

Tammy  Harvey

Written:   6/13/14