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