Uncomplicated

 My Ride

Yesterday was the first day of summer, 2021,

It rained all day long, a refreshing one,

The day before had been blazing hot,

I could not even ride the new bicycle I got,

Yes, a new set of wheels, for a 61-year-old child,

I wanted to ride, cruise really, like I was free and wild!

Well, I had my chance as this morning was sunny and bright,

The rain had cleared out in the dark of the night,

It was glorious to perch myself atop the plaid seat,

The bicycle had a basket too, which is pretty neat,

A good place for my cell phone, in case I need a rescue call,

Or maybe I’d take a picture of something lovely, after all,

The grass was glistening with water droplets like shiny gems,

The flowers were beautiful, as I passed lots of them,

A fragrant magnolia provided a beautiful smell,

It was going to be a great “first ride”, I could tell,

A mourning dove was calling her familiar song,

Everything was right; nothing was wrong,

Cool air hit my face like a vintage hand fan,

The flat kind with a stick, at a funeral or wedding- picture it if you can,

Usually with a picture of Jesus or a scripture verse or even an ad,

But I digress, so let me get back to my ride, before you get mad,

I met up with a few inclines that caused me to push hard,

But I was determined not to get off until I returned to my yard,

No hand brakes, no shifter, just a simple no-frills bike,

It was perfect, uncomplicated, just what I like,

With just 24” tires, it was perfect for me,

I am height-challenged, I think most would agree,

I stand 5 ft tall, the same size as Dolly Parton, I like to say,

This bike was “me” in every single way,

It is robin egg blue with yellow spokes and a plaid seat,

Like me:  Bright, silly and not yet obsolete!

So, I’ll cruise on my bicycle like the wicked witch of the west,

And don’t take myself too seriously, which is what I do best!

Tammy Harvey

Written:  6/21/2021

Enjoy the Breeze

 The Storm

A breath of fresh air, a sway of the trees,

A refreshing, gentle and calming breeze,

Can take the heat from a summer’s day,

Will literally melt all our cares away,

On our face and moving our hair,

We can not see it, but we know it’s there,

God is breathing his breath on me and on you,

Reminding us that his mercy is new,

New every morning, with the dawn,

As delicate as a newborn fawn,

Stop a moment and take it in,

There is a tranquil powerfulness in the wind,

Just like the Father, up above,

The gentle wind wraps us in its love,

But the wind can become like an unstoppable train,

Blowing down houses, accompanying torrential rain,

Flooding and destruction: hurricanes and such,

We then turn our backs to the wind, because it is too much,

Just like our God, the wind is two-fold,

Gentle and kind, but strong and bold,

We must always take the good with the bad,

His destruction of sin shouldn’t make us sad,

The ways of our world is not all gentle breezes,

Sometimes it hails, and the temperature freezes,

If we can enjoy the breeze, we can weather the storm,

The storm is there for a reason, let me inform,

If God can take any circumstance and turn it for good,

He should always be welcomed in our neighborhood.

By:  Tammy Harvey

Written:  6/17/2021

A Brand New Path

This poem is dedicated to someone who lost her spouse suddenly.  After seven long years, she has taken on the task of clearing all the clutter from her home and declaring a new start! 

cLUttEr

Even the word “clutter” is a messy word, I’d say,

Clutter is invasive and unorganized disarray,

Overloading life: an abundance of unwanted odds and ends,

That does not pay you any dividends,

Clutter can be in your house, your car, your mind,

It is essential to clear it, and then you will find,

A renewal of freshness, a brand new start,

Unnecessary clutter plays a truly big part,

In your mood, your energy, your ability to function,

It is two run-on sentences without a conjunction,

Clear it and there is room to grow,

In the right direction, you should know,

Getting rid of things doesn’t erase the past,

But it does open up opportunities at last,

A time to look ahead to a brighter future,

A time to refocus, giving your heart a big suture,

Healing past hurts while coping with a new normal,

Getting bogged down in clutter is not abnormal,

It is hard to move on from the future you once knew,

An abrupt change sent you down a different avenue,

Embrace that new road because there is no going back,

God has put you on a brand-new path,

So, honor the plan, declutter and have hope,

Clutter is most definitely a slippery slope.

Tammy Harvey

Written:  6/6/2021

Golfing Gone Wrong

You can't make this stuff up>>> 

Fore!

When you don’t know how to play golf, like me,

You may embarrass your children, as you will see,

At the practice green, you might scream “yay!” when you sink a putt,

But the look on your son’s face says that’s not golf etiquette,

Protocol or no, it’s water under the bridge, as they say,

So I’ve got a lot to learn; maybe I’ll learn someday,

It’s off to the course, where you might cough on your son’s backswing,

Didn’t know that would be a problem:  It’s a bad thing!

Then your phone might loudly “ding” on your other son’s turn,

“Silence your phone, Mom!”; when will I learn?

When the foursome in front of you is new to the game,

You might hear them yell “Fore” which you think is pretty lame,

Then the ball might whiz by your head and land in your fairway,

You should remain quietly on your golf cart, by the way,

For I promptly got out and proceeded to “help” the man find his ball,

I was oblivious to the fact that he needed no help at all,

I picked up his ball and walked toward him, as he approached me,

I said “I think this is your ball”; A kind gesture?  Wouldn’t  you agree?

The man shrugged and did not say “thank you”, which I thought was mean,

Then my sons, who were putting, saw the action from the green,

“What are you doing, Mom!”, I heard resonate in stereo,

You might say I was deflated by this- but I didn’t know!

At this point, we had made it through the front nine,

Time for refreshments and a bathroom break- no line!

But the foursome was teeing off at the tenth hole there,

And I felt I should apologize for my inappropriate ball err,

I started to walk that way; my son said “NO!”,

Just “Don’t bother them, Mom.  Let it GO!” 

So the rest of the game I was holding my coughs and sitting in the cart,

I wanted to be invited again sometime; I wanted to be smart,

If I played my cards right...maybe someday I would go golfing again,

But I certainly won’t hold my breath, until then!

Tammy Harvey

Written:  6/1/2021

Juno Returns

 Easter Bonnet

In the recesses of my closet, I ventured upon an old Easter hat,

It was familiar to me, like a long-lost cat,

I remembered Mom wearing that hat in a faded photo,

My first thought was: where does the time go?

How could it be that this hat was able to survive?

It was worn on Easter in 1965!

In front of our house, the family Easter pose:

Dad, Mom, sister and me, in our best Sunday clothes! 

My sister and I had frilly dresses, white gloves, black patent leather shoes & purses,

Lacey socks, white sweaters and smiles on our faces,

My Dad was looking dapper in his suit and tie,

He always was a good-looking guy!

My Mom’s hat, though, took the Easter prize,

And I had it in my possession now!  What a nice surprise!

It was white and tall, with a Jackie Kennedy flair,

Any fashionista would find it wonderful to wear,

But the one I choose to display this beautiful treasure:

Juno! And if she could talk, she would say “My pleasure”.

Tammy Harvey

Written:  4/28/2021

 

Beyond Measure

On what would have been our 36th Wedding Anniversary (5/25/1985)

The Buggy

This was no ordinary horse buggy, oh not at all,
It was a family heirloom that was used to haul,
Barrels of water during the land rush of 1893,
When The Oklahoma Territory was the place to be,
Selling cups of water to the settlers along their way,
Was a lucrative business I would say,
Charles and Nettie Harris were the owners of this treasured ride,
Until 1918, Charles purchased his first car with pride,
Then Nettie drove it directly through the back of the garage,
Causing a loud and unforgettable barrage!
Not knowing brakes were part of the car,
She never drove again; She never went far,
She was a schoolteacher until 1911,
When she married Charles, thank heaven,
For in 1913, she gave birth to our “Grandpa Harris”, Roy,
Who rode in the back of the buggy when he was a boy,
Roy’s grandson, Jerry, wanted to preserve this piece of history,
He drove from NC to KS; his love of family was no mystery,
That is when the wagon made its way to the East,
It was a long journey back to NC, to say the least,
But for years, Jerry had cherished this family treasure,
And it held a place in his heart that was beyond measure,
So happy to give it a new home; his determination never swayed,
He had dreams of restoring it and riding in the Benson parade,
God had other plans for Jerry and He took him away,
The wagon is now “in Memory of Jerry” today,

Donated to the State of NC, after much thought and consideration,
It will someday be displayed in their proposed museum of transportation!

Written by: Tammy Harvey
5/24/2021

No Expiration

 The Feathered Hat

In a world of disposables and a throw-away mentality,

It is comforting to know, some things don’t warrant a finality,

I am so thankful that some treasures are preserved,

So, we can enjoy them later, as they are well-deserved,

Of our fondness, as we stroll down memory lane,

I am speaking about vintage things that still remain,

Like the hats my mother wore in the mid-century years, 

During spring-cleaning, it is amazing what appears!

I found these tucked away in the original tattered, Sears hatbox,

In the top of my closet... if only I could turn back the clock,

To see my mother adorn these hats would be a gift,

I inquired of her to tell me the stories and her response was swift,

There was the feathered headpiece with netting, so divine,

The story behind it was a favorite of mine,

Mother conveyed the time she wore it to a TN football game “ages ago”,

If only we had a photo of that day: she with her beau,

She wore a green suite, lizard heels and a matching handbag,

“Made in Italy” was still on the inside tag,

Quite fancy I think for this girl who grew up poor on the farm,

Bet she was proud of her look, as she took him by the arm,

“In those days, we dressed up for the games”, she said,

I was intrigued by how that tradition had fled,

I couldn’t be happier the hats were kept for another generation,

Some things, you know, have no expiration!

Tammy Harvey

Written: 4/28/2021