Nursery Rhyme Time

 

 Hey Diddle Diddle

The dish and the spoon were a logical couple,

Although they ran away to avoid any trouble,

The trouble all started with a: “Hey, Diddle, Diddle”,

And a laughing dog that apparently was little,

Laughing hysterically because of the cow,

Who unexpectedly jumped over the moon, somehow,

Oh, and don’t forget the cat and the fiddle,

This silly nursery rhyme is quite a riddle,

It all started with a feline playing a stringed instrument,

Which conjures up a strange predicament,

Published in 1587 in English literature,

These magical words must have some allure,

The nursery rhymes we all learned as a child,

You’ll have to admit, are pretty wild!

Tammy Harvey

Written:  3/9/2021

The Sweet Spot

 

Creativity

I read lately a quote that stirred me,

Matt Haig wrote: “There is a sweet spot between confidence and anxiety and that is where creativity lives”,

Creativity lives.  It thrives and grows, blossoms and we appreciate it,

It grows, if only we allow it to.  If the weeds of anxiety don’t overcome it,

If the sunshine and rainfall of confidence feeds it in the right amounts,

We cultivate the creativity, like a garden of our soul,

Like a garden, creativity produces fruit,

Fruit of the imagination, of endless possibilities,

Things unthought of, beautiful art yet discovered,

To be creative is to live in that “sweet spot”,

The hope is to release anxiety and gain confidence to let creativity soar,

Boundlessly and joyfully:  Create until your heart’s content!

Write, draw, paint, craft, sew, build…create.

Tammy Harvey

Written:  2/15/2021

Give Us this Day Our Daily Bread

The Kitchen Table

My grandmother’s kitchen table: oh, the stories it could tell!
It was bright yellow enamel- I remember it well,
With the wide silver trim and matching yellow vinyl seats,
The kind that stick to your legs in the July summer heat,
She rolled many a biscuit out on that marbled tabletop,
And served countless Christmas dinners: the cream of the crop!
My grandfather always sat at the end of that rectangular table,
My grandmother to his right for as long as she was able,
She cooked our favorite meals- mine was macaroni & cheese,
Always wearing a vintage apron that came down to her knees,
Her ability to not waste a single morsel of food was incredible,
She gleaned every bit of food from the garden that was edible,
The garden right out the back screened door of the kitchen,
Gave us meals, but mostly it was love we were rich in,
Food made with love, has the best taste of all,
And it was not lacking every winter through fall,
Served up on a bright yellow table like a ray of sunshine,
We were blessed to all be together to dine!
Tammy Harvey
Written: 2/25/2021

Rejoice in Song

 

Music is Love

I’ve never been musically inclined; no instrument did I play,

Can’t carry a tune in a bucket, but I love music anyway,

Nothing lifts spirits like a happy song,

A familiar song, one which you can sing along,

In the shower or in the car,

You can sing inside your head wherever you are,

I like a toe-tapping, sometimes knee-slapping tune,

Also, I like ballads and singers that croon,

I like gospel and country western and classic rock,

Musical theater, soundtracks and even Bach!

The music of the 60’s, 70’s, and 80’s is special to me,

I grew up with them: from a sapling to a tree,

Music is a form of expression:  a universal language,

It is meant for everyone, a true advantage,

Sung by all, written by all, enjoyed by all,

No matter how old, no matter how small,

Music is a form of worship, glory and praise,

 We can rejoice in song all of our days,

“Music is love and love is music; If you know what I mean,

People who believe in music are the happiest people I’ve ever seen”:

Lyrics to Mac Davis’ 1972 hit: I Believe in Music, still lives on,

Even though the artist who sang it is now gone,

Music stirs emotions, like the call of a mourning dove,

And is timeless, like its companion:  true love.

Tammy Harvey

Written:  3/4/2021

"Play Pretties"

 

Tinker Toys

Visits to my grandmother’s house brought much simplicity,

Among many things, was the selection of toys she had for us to play,

The options were two, unlike the variety offered the grandchildren today,

My grandmother always brought out the same can with the metal lid,

She placed it in the middle of the floor and said:

“Here’s you some play pretties to play with children”,

Then turn to my Mom and say “well then”,

The can was filled with Tinker Toys, wooden, with lots of spools and dowels,

Different lengths and colors of wooden dowels,

It was amazing how long we could work on a creation,

The adults could talk while we invoked our imagination,

The only other “toy” she offered us was a box of dominoes,

Even if we didn’t know how to play, the possibilities were numerous,

We could set them up in a long row to create a “domino effect”,

Or build with them to make fences and towers, but with quiet respect,

Not much noise was allowed from our play on the hard floor,

“Children must be seen and not heard”, the adults would implore,

When those two toys were played until boredom had set in,

The other option was the porch swing which could be seen from the den,

We would swing and swing until time to go home,

Then back to the city Mom would drive us, with no cellphone,

It is hard to remember how we all survived then,

Without electronic games or a huge toy bin!

Tammy Harvey

Written:  1/18/2021