I'm a Senior

Every other Tuesday at the Senior Citizen Center in Cary a crowd gathers to partake in a game of chance...

B-I-N-G-O

Recently, I ventured to play Bingo at the local senior center,

It seemed like a good activity for the upcoming winter,

I did not realize how seriously the other participants took the game,

I was a newbie, inexperienced; my Bingo skills were lame,

Arriving early, snacks in hand, to procure their lucky seats,

Veterans of Bingo were prepared, like seasoned athletes,

The tables filled up quickly, the final headcount was a hundred and one,

I was probably the youngest at 58, and could tell it was going to be fun,

I chose to play 5 cards at once, to increase my chances to win,

While the veterans played more cards than that, to my ultimate chagrin,

Steadily each number rang out: I-18, B-10, N-33, 

I was getting the hang of it now, footloose and fancy-free,

But just as I thought I was going to be the winner,

Someone ELSE shouted “Bingo!”:  I was a beginner,

It is a game of luck, but there is skill involved,

You can’t miss a number or your victory is dissolved,

We played variations: postage stamp and picture frame,

Unheard of to me, but the result was the same,

Someone else would yell “Bingo” and we’d clear all our cards,

The winners, though, were gracious, nodding kind regards,

For two hours, the numbers continuously were called out,

It was a serious competition, and the seniors were devout,

I’ve played two events now, and always tasted defeat,

Still I enjoy being a senior, and will claim my "lucky" seat!

Tammy Harvey

Written:  9/13/2018

Rest in Peace

The Mill

The air is crisp like the peel of an apple that is tart,

The leaves are ablaze with color, like a priceless piece of art,

The air smells fresh, clean and clear,

October has arrived and fall is here,

The campsite is busy with family and friends alike,

Some are making breakfast, some are riding their bikes,

There is a hint of campfire smoke floating in the air,

There is a rush of excitement:  someone has spotted a bear,

A mama bear and her cubs eating chestnuts by the stream,

Spotted at dawn, by the mill, is a camper’s wildest dream,

Located at the midpoint of Cades Cove’s 11-mile loop,

The waterwheel turns slowly as each paddle takes a scoop,

The water in the trough flows silently to the wheel,

Although it is steadily moving, it is peaceful and surreal,

It is there I lay to rest the dust of the man I married,

The Great Smokey Mountains National Park is where he chose to be “buried”,

Ashes to ashes and dust to dust, he returns to the land he admired,

An annual mountain camping trip is what he most desired,

Being close to God’s creation and communing with wildlife there,

Is renewing, invigorating- an experience beyond compare,

As I leave his remains, in his chosen resting place,

I can almost see the smile upon his happy face,

He will love residing here, a place of true tranquility,

While his soul resides in Heaven for all of   eternity.

Tammy Harvey

Written:  8/28/2018

Rest in Peace Jerry.

Curious?

What’s that?
I’m hearing a rapid knock, knock, knock, somewhere near,
It’s a unique sound to an untrained ear,
Is someone knocking at my door?
Driving a nail into the hardwood floor?
It is a hollow sound, like a percussion block,
Knock, knock, knock; knock, knock, knock, knock,
It almost sounds like the beat of a bongo drum,
Or the rapid fire of an automatic machine gun,
I look out my window in order to see,
A red-headed woodpecker drilling holes on the side of a tree,
I knew all along what caused this unusual noise,
But to peak your curiosity is one of my joys,
How would the poem read if I told you right away?
“I saw a red-headed woodpecker today”,
Well I did, and he was a sight to behold,
He was quite large, and he certainly was bold,
But I wonder still as I think back on his pecking,
Was it my hearing or his, he was wrecking?
Surely the loud noise would make his ears ache,
Or at least give him an excruciating headache,
And his beak took a pounding and did not break,
Maybe that is why his head is so red,
I’m so glad I saw him before he fled.

Tammy Harvey
Written: 2/11/2018

Keep Hope Alive

I wrote this on Jan 2, 2018 with a solid hope and confidence that Jerry's MRI on Jan 11 would show successful progress.  Unfortunately, that was not the case, and he was disqualified from the clinical trial.  He later would succumb to this horrible disease, but we still find hope.  Hope in knowing that he was a believer and is eternally in the presence of God.

Praying for a miracle

I believe in dreams come true,

I believe in miracles too,

I need a miracle, I need an answer,

My Jerry is battling brain cancer!

I never thought I’d be making that statement,

To hear it, I still am in amazement,

Life is unpredictably fragile, who knew?

My best friend would be battling breast cancer too,

My husband, an otherwise healthy, energetic man,

With so many hopes, and adventuresome plans,

Is currently fighting the fight of his life,

I am staying positive and being a hopeful wife,

He is incredibly courageous and has never complained,

His head though is foggy and his energy drained,

His medicines are many, but his side effects few,

We are certainly blessed that radiation is through,

With standard care complete, the next step is for sure,

An exciting new clinical trial that could offer a cure,

Pray with me now for success in this endeavor,

So, we can be free of brain cancer forever!

Tammy Harvey

Written:  1/2/2018

Play Me a Song Piano Man

This poem was inspired by the live piano music played in the open foyer of the bottom floor at the Duke Cancer Center. Starting around mid-morning, the pianist took his/her place, and the sound resonated throughout the open stairway. It could be heard from all four floors. The pianist was different each time, but the sound was so refreshing. Piano music is such a great addition to the ambiance. I am sure it promotes healing.

Piano Music
Fingers flowing gracefully across the ivory keys,
Pianists appear to play their instruments with such ease,
The piano makes a beautiful sound, each note is its very own,
But together the notes comprise a rich, unmistakable tone,
Two gifted hands performing together in perfect harmony,
I close my eyes; my mind drifts away to a place that’s totally free,
I am not musically inclined, but still, I am aware of this,
A piano instrumental is a source of soothing bliss,
I hear an old familiar song, as the hammers hit the strings,
I can’t describe what joyfulness the experience truly brings,
If only I could play myself, I’d play ‘til my heart’s content,
I would play “Somewhere Over the Rainbow, at a big event,
I’d wear a fancy ballgown with sequins to reflect the light,
I’d still be playing diligently until late into the night,
If I could play, I’d ask each listener for a particular request,
Then I’d play the songs they wanted; the ones they liked the best,
This is a fantasy I’ve created; sheet music is foreign to me,
But I do appreciate the artists who play so eloquently.

Tammy Harvey
Written: 5/3/18