Let the Sun Shine In

 

Let the Sun Shine In

It’s that one swatch of sunshine that streams through the window on a cold winter’s day.  It makes a slanting rectangular glow on the floor.  I stretch out on the carpet and take in the warmth of it.  It is like a natural heating pad to my back.  Face down on the carpet, I’m in a state of comfort like no other.  It is a warm cup of cocoa, a fuzzy blanket, and literally a ray of sunshine to my soul.  I am perplexed at how a simple thing can bring such happiness.  Oh, but to enjoy the little things life has to offer.  I am lulled to sleep by the relaxation it provides.  It is not even at my own house, but at my son’s home, in his playroom and I take advantage of it when I can.  Among the chaos of the playroom that is sometimes so loud it hurts my ears, is a respite.  A calm amid the storm.  When the boys are at school and the baby has gone down for her nap, I find myself lying in the sunshine, quietly.   In a place that is usually bustling with laughter, wrestling, gymnastics and child’s play.  My wish is that everyone could find a place of peace to rest their soul amongst the loud and chaotic world.  It doesn’t have to be an extravagant vacation or a trip to a tropical paradise with glorious views.  It can be as simple as the sunshine streaming in on a cold winter’s day.

Tammy Harvey  1/12/2026

As I title this story, I am reminded of the song by the 5^th Dimension in 1969, Aquarius (Let the Sunshine In).

The Woods, the Fort

 

The Woods, the Fort

Any patch of trees will do,

A vacant lot is tried and true,

For building forts as little boys,

Sticks and rocks are their toys,

A group of boys in the neighborhood,

Camaraderie-forming, as it should,

Shovels and rakes borrowed from dad,

And hours of strategic planning were had,

Raking away the piles of debris,

Making a path on hand and knee,

Digging holes to thwart the invaders,

Battling thorns and wearing waders,

To cross the creek, just north of the fort,

And muddy footprints, but mom’s a good sport,

Hours of fun, creating their own space,

It puts more than just a smile on their face,

Walkie-talkie communication,

More than just recreation,

It is teambuilding skills put into action,

It’s a rite of passage with much satisfaction,

Playing in the woods, getting dirty, feeling free,

Gaining independence, that is the key.

Tammy Harvey  1/12/2026

This poem was inspired by my two grandsons who have recently built a "fort" in the wooded lot next to their house along with the neighborhood boys.  Having raised three sons, I am particularly aware that this is an important part of growing up!

Fences

 

Fences

While taking a walk outside today,

I noticed a variety of fences along the way,

Some were wooden.  Others were metal or split rail,

Some looked strong and others looked terribly frail,

Some were for privacy, others for safety, as I walked by the school,

A backyard, a playground, a community swimming pool,

Fences were keeping others out; they were keeping others in,

And I remembered a familiar poem from way back when,

Robert Frost’s “Mending Wall” about a stone wall, in need of repair,

One neighbor diligently building while his neighbor questioned why the fence was even there,

“Good fences make good neighbors” is the idiom from this rhyme,

This saying has been stated time after time,

Boundaries are sometimes necessary to honor a person’s land,

It’s not about drawing a proverbial bold line in the sand,

It’s a matter of respect, I was taught as a girl,

You just don’t go wandering around like a feral squirrel,

Though fences should not be about isolation,

Hospitality defies any consternation,

Good neighbors treat others like they want to be treated,

It’s the golden rule and is worth being repeated.

Tammy Harvey  1/8/2025

Core Memories

 

Riding his Horse in the Snow

A terminally ill man, with not much time to spare,

A self-proclaimed “blessed man”, who was in our care,

A nasty brain tumor had taken away some of his mind,

But he remained positive, hopeful and undeniably kind,

He was sleeping a lot and had not much energy now,

Though an inspiration to us, an encourager somehow,

I asked him one day if he could do anything, what would it be?

He answered with something so simple for me,

He would ride horses in the snow and that was his answer,

It was a core memory he had, not taken by cancer,

In his youth he rode his appaloosa in the snow,

Somewhere in heaven he is riding I know,

The point to this story is oh so clear,

Make core memories while you can, my dear.

Tammy Harvey

12/23/2025