Jamieson Wolf
Number-one bestselling author
Magic and Mannequins – A Poem
I passed by the store window
and for a moment thought
the mannequin’s were real people.
I wondered why they were
stuck behind the glass.
Then it occurred to me
what they were, that
they weren’t real,
no matter how lifelike
they looked. I was about to
keep walking when one of
the mannequin’s winked at me.
I stared, thinking I had
imagined it. She was pretty,
with a short blond bob,
her eyes covered with
blue eye shadow that
made her grey eyes sparkle.
She winked at me again
and one of her fingers
wiggled at me, telling me
to come closer. Swallowing
my fear, I went into the store.
It smelled of honeysuckle
and roses. A kindly woman
stood behind the counter.
How may I help you sir?
Her voice was like music
and had a lilt to it that
I couldn’t recognize.
I’m sorry, this is going to sound nuts, but-
One of the ladies winked at you, didn’t they?
She said this with a smile,
as if it were an everyday occurrence.
How did you know?
Oh, they wink at people who need the most assistance.
What kind of assistance?
Oh, all kinds of things. Lost keys, lost hearts, lost dreams. Which one was it that winked at you?
I turned and looked at
the mannequins and pointed
at the one with the blonde bob.
It was her.
Oh, Estelle! She helps those seeking love! She’s delightful. If she’s brought you in here, it won’t take long now. She’s very good.
What do you mean?
Watch.
A man was walking by the store
and stopped just as I had. He looked
at the blonde haired mannequin, Estelle,
and I watched as she crooked a finger at him.
He was tall with sandy coloured hair
and soft blue eyes. I saw him blink
in surprise and then look at the store.
How does she know he’s someone I’ll fall in love with? Are the mannequins alive?
The woman laughed and it was a sound
that reminded me of the tinkling of bells.
If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.
Try me.
Magic.
I laughed. Magic? Really?
She smiled. There are all kinds of magic. You just have to be open enough to receive them.
The bell above the door jangled
as the man entered the store.
When he looked at me, a spark
passed between us. It zapped
through the air and heat ran
along my body.
See? She said.
Magic.
The Breath of Magic – A Poem
I stood in line behind a man
that smelled of cigarettes.
He was swaying from
left to right.
a bouquet of scope and vodka
floating around him
like a cloud. The clerk behind
the counter smiled at him.
How are you today, sir?
The man looked shocked
to be addressed as sir.
I just want to buy this. Cat food. It’s for my cat.
The clerk looked at theĀ man
that smelled like booze and
nodded, still giving the
man a kind look.
Yes, of course sir. That will be free of charge.
The booze man looked
at the clerk and then bent down
to pick up the cat food
but stopped when he
saw the bags of food.
I didn’t see them appear either.
There were cans one moment
and then bags of food the next.
This isn’t mine.
The booze man said.
I just wanted my cat food.
It is yours. See? Here’s your receipt.
The clerk pointed to a piece of paper
that stuck out of the bag.
You’ve already paid for it.
The booze man looked
beyond amazed. He nodded,
took the bags and whispered
a thank you to the clerk.
It was my turn and as I
got closer, I saw that he
was portly, with an ear ring
in each ear and a large
gold ring on each hand,
each with an emerald in
the setting. He held out his hands
when he saw me, as if he were
welcoming me to a parlour
instead of a cash line.
How are you doing today?
I asked him.
He looked at me, surprised
that someone had asked
him instead of the other way around.
I am very well indeed, thank you. Do you require a bag for your purchases?
With the way he spoke,
the thin beard on his chin
and the jewellery, he reminded
me of a genie.
No thank you.
I told him.
I brought a backpack.
Then at least let me help you get things ready for your purchases.
He gestured at the debit machine.
Put your card in the slot.
I did as he told me to and
he waved his arms again.
The breath of magic in
3…2…1
He leaned over and blew
on the debit machine,
as if it were a flame.
The screen flashed
for a second and
I looked up at him.
found him smiling at me.
What did you do?
I asked him.
He bowed looked at me kindly.
I gave you a doorway.
He said. As I walked
away from the cash line,
he called after me.
Go where you’re feet need to go. They already know the way.
I nodded, knowing that the man
really was a genie and that
magic was possible.
Joy and Light – A Poem
You are a light and brightness
personified. You are joy
and comfort made real.
You are strength and
support given form.
As you take another
step along your path,
we are all celebrating
with you, as our lives
are made better
for knowing you.
* For Rachael on her Birthday for she is fabulous.
Talking to the Sky Receives Two Glowing Reviews!
Talking to the Sky receives two glowing reviews!
The wonderful Dianne Harstock had this to say:
With his unique style and powerful imagery, Jamieson Wolf lures us into this beautiful volume of poetry.Ā ColoursĀ splash across the page, emotions are captured in a single word orĀ phrase. We ride the city bus and see a woman’s tears, feel the touch of a caring hand, experience the joy in a child’s smile.
We walk a city street, hushed with snow. Friends and lovers meet with a warm breath on the cheek, a kiss, a sad goodbye. We witness courage, personal growth, moments of humor, strength, snatches of a dream.
Each poem is a stolen moment in time, raw, vivid, and intimate. Touching the Sky is an uplifting affirmation of life not soon forgotten.
And the incredible Dava Gamble had this to say:
I have had the pleasure of reading this collection a few times and will many more I am sure. Jamieson’s words provokes the entire spectrum of emotions in his words, allowing feelings to surface in the reader easily. There is an almost haunting permanence in the stories he weaves, one that has taken me to my own experiences that I thought were long lost. This poet is magical. His words are powerful and loving. A very very good read!!
I am humbled and honoured that everyone is enjoying Talking to the Sky so much! I’m over the moon and over joyed.
Have you read Talking to the Sky? Why not consider reviewing it? You can do so here:
If you read Talking to the Sky, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it.
Mastering Self – A Poem
“What is MS?”
I was stunned
that he didn’t
know. I lived
with it inside
of me every
day, every minute.
I carried it
like a stone
or wore it
like a shroud.
“Seriously? You don’t know?”
The truth was,
neither did I.
It was a
disease with no
rhyme or reason
to it and
I was still
learning what it
was capable of.
“Yeah, like, is it contagious?”
I shook my
head, unsure of
how to respond.
I thought of
all the lives
that it touched:
my family, people
who know and
love me. It
affected everyone, even
though I was
the one to
carry it. I
turned to him.
“Not in the way that you’re thinking.”
There was so
little known about
all of the
why’s and how’s
of MS. I
was still learning
about it and
what it was
capable of.
I was still
learning about myself
all over again
when I thought
I knew who
I was already.
“So how does it affect your life?”
I thought it
was a startlingly
personal question, so
I gave it
some personal thought.
I was not
the same person
as I was
before. I was
still me, but
a different me:
more thankful, more
joyous, more grateful,
more; just more.
I had thrown
myself onto my
path, the road
to mastering my
self, to knowing
who I was
now. Who I
had become. I
turned to face
him and the
words were simple.
“It helped start me on the path to finding myself.”
He looked at
me as if
unsure he had
heard correctly. He
scratched his head.
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
I gave him
one last look.
“I wouldn’t expect you to.”
I turned and
walked away from
him, leaving the
shroud and stone
behind.
Buy Little Yellow Magnet from Amazon and Kobo!
Jamieson Wolf has written a compelling story about navigating multiple sclerosis and cerebral palsy. His story will touch your heart, make you cry, then laugh, and inspire you. A touching memoir with a bit of magicā¦and tarot! ~Ā Theresa Reed, author ofĀ The Tarot Coloring Book
Jamieson Wolf 