Wolfville Moments

Moment #1
The siren jars the air with it's weeewoooo weeeewoooo sound
The big red truck goes whizzing by with wheel's whirling round
The children laugh and point and shout at yet another wonder found
While adults share a knowing look and worry for the downed.

Moment #2
The big dog laps the water up then sits and wags his tail
The little dog prances around the other and sniffing does entail
The third, so happy with the water dish - as if she'd found her grail
Shows her complete and utter joy by kissing all the males. 


Moment #3
The cars crawl by at a snail's pace, putt putt putt putt zoom
The traffic has been heavy and slow all day - all speedsters meet their doom
The drivers glance at our big open window into this cozy coffee room
Bumper to bumper slows them further, both cars and drivers fume.

Moment #4
Two ladies try to cross the street during the traffic rush
They are only 10 feet from the crosswalk - they deserve to be mush
That's mean I know and I don't mean it, it's just a personal peeve
So use the friggin crosswalk! Push the button! Please!!

Moment #5
Sitting in the window and sipping at my tea
And taking the time to wave at the sea
Of people who pass both known and new
Thanks for sweetening the moments that I am sharing with you.

- Donna Holmes. May 20, 2012.   
 

My Poem

A lot of words have been occurring to me lately.  Here is yet ANOTHER new entry.  I actually wrote this and put music to it a couple of weeks ago. As noted to friends earlier, sometimes they come out sounding worse than I actually feel.... as long as I just keep writing them down right?  ;O)

MY POEM

The reason I'm here for
Is not very clear nor
Can I see where I'm going to.
The life that I cheered for
Is no longer here for
Me to choose it over you.

The one that I yearn for
Was never at my door
I'm not even sure he exists
But if ever I hear the
Voice that I steer for
My song will have gotten its wish


CHORUS
And then maybe my life will make sense.
And then maybe I'll find my way home.
So that I can give up the pretence
That all is still well, all is still well, all is still well
With my poem.


My story keeps changing.
The facts rearranging
Themselves into some kind of dance.
Each step has been aging
Me less than engagingly.
I feel I've lost any chance

To stop all the raging
The fear and the caging
Of creative ideas that were bold.
I find that I'm gazing
At stars, each amazing.
Yet can't face how my story's told


CHORUS
Cuz I thought that my life would make sense
And I thought that I'd find my way home
That would let me give up the pretence
That all is still well, all is still well, all is still well
With my poem.

- Donna Holmes, April 15, 2012.

I am a Dragon

I am a dragon who loves rainbows
My flame is a burnt orange sunset
My wings help me soar above the shadows
Through the water-coloured day - not done yet

I am an archer shooting arrows
They're not poisoned but they are sharp
My aim is to poke holes in the shadows
My hope is to reach someone's heart

I am a clown who juggles memories
I'm not good at catching them all
My foolish head suffers brain-freeze
If there's a point, I can't recall

I am a poet who is lost for words
An actor who has lost the play
A singer who is lost in music
And a woman who has lost her way.

Gone the words
Gone the memories
Gone the arrows
Gone the flame.

- Donna Holmes, April 29, 2012.

Big Fat Moments

Big fat droplets of rain drench the street outside the cafe
And my umbrella's at the office.
Pre-teens waiting in the movie line yell "hooray!"
And I sit waiting for something to happen.

Why just wait you ask?
Sometimes, I don't.
Often I make my world move and shake
But sometimes you can only wait.

Big fat moments of potential continue passing by
I'm staying dry sipping tea at my table
The crowd has left the lobby making room for the music
And I sit waiting for something to happen

I'm waiting to happen
Sometimes, I don't
But the world will continue to move and shake
And sometimes you can only wait

Big fat lies in the newspaper make me angry
I'm staying sane by reading the comics
After the cryptoquote spree, I need more tea
While I keep waiting for something to happen.

Why do I wait?
Maybe I won't
Maybe I'll make my world start its move and its shake
Or maybe just sit here and continue to wait.

The Routine Kindness of Strangers

This is something of mine the Grapevine (a little Wolfville publication) printed a couple of Chrismtases ago (out of season I know... oh well.)  I just ran across it again today and thought I'd share it here.  I'd also like to reiterate here that the world is NOT falling apart.  The media only shows us the crappy stuff going on...but good people do great things every day.   WE make this world what it is - are you so bad?  I don't think so.  And I'd just like to say thanks for being pretty great and thanks to all those strangers who have helped me over the years including the following examples...

My (very old and used) car has broken down three Christmases in a row now.  Three years ago the exhaust rusted off.  A nearby garage opened up on Boxing Day - just for me - to wire it up temporarily and then wouldn’t take any money for their work.  Two years ago, on Christmas morning, I was almost run off the highway by a passing car heading in my direction! I avoided the oncoming car, but popped the clutch in the process.  I stood there by my car, about to cry, when a sweet British couple stopped to help.  They’d just moved to Nova Scotia.  One of them let me use the cell phone (that she’d just received that morning) and they drove an hour out of their way to take me to my sister’s house.   Last year,  it was pouring rain on Christmas morning – remember that?    Well, it turns out that old cars like mine, with questionable spark plugs, don’t like the rain.  The car stalled in Kentville just as I turned up Chester Ave - on my annual trek to the South Shore.  I DID cry this time.  Another very nice man actually stopped and tapped on my window to see if I was ok.  He helped me move the car off the road and drove me to a friend’s place where I could use the phone.   Then the friend actually lent me her car for that entire holiday so I could get to my family for Christmas.  In my experience, people are....well they’re just fabulous.  I have been helped by so many strangers over the years – including the time I ran out of gas in Coldbrook and that man drove me to & from the gas station, and the time I locked my keys in the car and that delivery guy used a curtain rod to open my door, and the time that sweet little couple helped me out when I ran out of gas on Belcher street, and the time that nice old man changed my tire in Bridgetown, and...  well, you get the picture.   I am so thankful I live in such an incredible area – a place where many of us have come to rely on the, almost routine, kindness of strangers.    :o)  

Daisy's Dreams

I wrote this little "dream" last fall just after the Deep Roots Music festival.  It is based on a TRUE story.   ;O)

Daisy's Dreams

It was dark, as usual.  Daisy always found her time in the big, dark box peaceful and full of dreamy rainbow fantasies or quiet contemplative moments.  She never got bored – didn’t really know the meaning of the word.  She just knew she was happy to be in a safe dry place. 

There was a jiggle. The safe, dry box was moving.  Perhaps the Maker was just shifting around the storage site as she was often want to do.  Suddenly, Daisy felt a major jolt to one side, then a mighty jiggle back, and then a strange lifting sensation – much like one feels when riding in that other kind of box, the metal one that moves things and people up and down to different floors.  What was that called again?  Telephone?  Elephant? Ah yes!  Elevator!  But she knew she wasn’t in an elevator now.  It felt more familiar than that.  Her safe dry home began vibrating and there was the feeling of acceleration – the regular little jumps and jiggles of Daisy’s well-packed surroundings informed her that she was in a fast-moving machine.  Cup?  Cat?  Car!  “Right.” she thought to herself, “We’re in a car.  We must be going to a festival!”

Oh how exciting!  Daisy just loved festivals.  As much as she loved dreaming in her safe, dry box, she loved participating in festivals even more.  The car’s motion lulled her imaginary mind and, for awhile, she slid into a dozy dream of cheer and magic.

Time passed.  The sudden absence of motion woke her up.  After a few more bumps and jiggles and jolts and a final THUD, the moment that the box dweller had been dreaming of, blazed into reality.  There was so much light, and there, THERE was the Maker smiling down at her.

“Hello Daisy” said the Maker, “Ready to face the world again?”  

Daisy just smiled.  She always smiled.  That was how her face had been painted.  Her perpetual smile made her happy.   Hmmm… or was it the other way around?  Perhaps her happiness made her perpetually smile.  No matter, she just knew, in her wooden-pole soul, that facing the world with her smiling face was a very happy occasion indeed.    

The Maker reached into the box and brought Daisy into the light and placed her on a table.  At that angle, Daisy was just able to see the Maker pull out the rest of her body from the safe, dry box. 

“Here comes the fun part” Daisy thought to herself.  The Maker arranged Daisy’s body – a 5-foot pole draped in a pretty pink and white dress – and stood it against a wall.  Then the Maker lifted Daisy’s large head from the table and placed it on top of the pole.  “There now” Daisy thought.  She was her 7-foot Giant Puppet self once more.

Daisy was a special Giant Puppet.  The older giants required three humans to manipulate them, but Daisy only needed one.  And the best part was that the Maker was often her one human!  Daisy leaned against the wall and waited as the Maker and her helpers assembled the other Giant Puppets.  There was Leroy and Sam and Alice and….oh!  The Jester was with them today as well.  How grand!  Daisy smiled her paper-maché grin at her large friends spaced out along the perimeter of the room.  They smiled back as a fantasy continued to unfold before them.  Soon there were brightly coloured scarves, butterfly wings, beautiful bird masks, and other magical props and glittering costumes strewn around the large room in the chaotic order that only the Maker fully understood.  There were big people and little people helping or learning from the Maker.  No, not little people.  Hmmmm… Chug boats? Chickens?  What was that word again?

“Dennis!” the Maker called out “Could you help that group of children with those butterfly wings?”

Children!  That’s what those little beings were called.  Daisy watched the children laugh and try on costumes and practice flying. 

“Watch out!” cried Dennis.  He quickly shooed his group of butterflies out of the way as the Jester lurched forward alarmingly fast. 

“Easy now” soothed the Maker to the Jester’s humans.  “Hold the pole up straight” she told one and “wave that arm more slowly” she said to another.  The Maker taught the humans how to move the Jester with the majesty that befitted his station.  The Jester was the first of this Giant Puppet community and the Maker made sure his humans treated him with the respect that garnered him.  The Jester gave a slow regal wave to Daisy and she knew that everything would be ok.  She smiled back. 

“It’s almost time to start” boomed a big man wearing an orange vest.  “Time to line up!”

“A parade!”  Daisy concluded.  “We’re getting ready for a parade!  Oh how very VERY grand!”

“Ready Daisy?” asked the Maker.  Daisy smiled.  The Maker fastened Daisy’s pole harness around her shoulders and waist then pulled down Daisy’s pretty pink & white dress all around her.  The Maker was completely hidden under Daisy’s pretty dress. The dress was made of special lace that allowed the Maker to see the world through Daisy’s tummy.  Daisy wanted to giggle in delight she was so excited.

“Here we go” boomed the man in the orange vest.

The big doors were opened and the multi-hued group of puppets and humans emerged out towards the bright sunny day.  The Maker bent low to get through the door without bumping Daisy’s head.  The Maker moved forward so Daisy moved forward.  Daisy and the Maker liked to walk at the back of the parade so they could see everyone in front of them and also watch for straggling butterflies.  A riot of colour and laughter danced down the street before them.  The butterflies with graceful flowing wings joined bright beautiful fish, sparkling birds, and other charming creatures as they all fluttered, swam, flapped, and mingled their way through the town.  There were people of all shapes and sizes wearing gleaming costumes of silver and gold and purple and red.  There were drummers and dancers and even a friendly little dog wearing a rainbow collar.  And interspersed throughout, were the stately Giant Puppets waving to the cheering crowds that had gathered along the roadside. 

The parade passed by the Farmers’ Market and the Giants could hear entrancing music coming from the stage.  The Maker began to dance, so Daisy began to dance.  The Maker twirled, so Daisy twirled.  Sam and Alice clapped their large hands in time to the music and Leroy did a giant jig.  The Jester moved majestically through the crowd and Daisy smiled and smiled. 

Eventually it was time to go back.  The swirling mass of puppets and people, almost floating on the joy they had created, drifted back towards the big building where it all began.  The Giant Puppets all bent low to get back into the door.   The humans, big and small, took off their bright costume pieces and began to pack the bits of enchantment away. 

The Maker unharnessed herself from Daisy and came out from under the pretty pink & white dress.  “Now wasn’t that fun” said the Maker to Daisy.  Daisy couldn’t wipe the smile off her face, she was so happy.  Happy and tired - what a big day it had been.  The Maker reached up and carefully removed Daisy’s head from her pole and placed it on the table once again.  As the humans packed away the other puppets and costumes, Daisy quietly watched the Maker carefully prepare Daisy’s storage box - placing her pole, dress, and large hands inside.  Finally the Maker lifted Daisy’s head from the table and laid it in the cozy darkness.  

“Great job today Daisy” whispered the Maker. “Sleep well my friend”.

“Good work.” thought Daisy sleepily.  No, that wasn’t it.  “Good news?”  She was so tired she didn’t think she would remember… wait!  “Good NIGHT” she thought with a drowsy smile.  The Maker grinned down at the large smiling face and placed the lid back on the storage crate.  The puppet welcomed the dark and fell back into a relaxed meditation of the magic, colours, wishes, and things that made up the stuff of Daisy’s dreams.

- Written by Donna Holmes, Sept 27, 2010.

Riding on Perspective

One of our writing group's exercises included writing the same experience from two different perspectives.  Here's what I came up with...  

Riding on Perspective

HER

She leaned forward in eager anticipation for the wild ride ahead.  The little car that they were safely strapped into took them slowly up, up, up the clicking track giving her time to admire the magnificent view that slowly revealed itself the higher they climbed.  “This is the bees knees”, she thought to herself.  “This is the cat’s meow, the cow’s moo, and the grasshoppers’ elbows all in one!”   She squeezed the hand of the man beside her – too breathless with excitement to be able to comment aloud on how much fun she knew they were about to have.  She felt the pressure of his hand in return signifying agreement.  She glanced at his profile and noted his raised eyebrows and grinning mouth.  He was as excited as she was.  She laughed out loud as the coaster topped the first hill.  She let go of his hand so she could raise both her arms in the air and thrill in the moment of their companionship, her beating heart, and the ride!

HIM

“Don’t throw up, don’t throw up” he thought to himself as they began to climb the mountain of… of… TERROR.  He squeezed his eyes shut to close out the dizzying heights that the devil ride was taking them to then quickly opened them again.  Ack! That was far worse.   His crazed imagination had instantly flashed to him all the many gruesome ways one could die on a rollercoaster during the two seconds that his eyes had been shut. Gah!! How could he have let himself be talked into taking this ride into insanity and beyond.  What had possessed him to partake in this potentially painful and preposterous parade towards purgatory??  He felt a movement beside him and almost screamed aloud in horrible fright until he realized it was just Her taking hold of his hand.  “Poor thing.  She must be even more terrified than I am.”  The thought helped to steady him. His eyes might be the size of scared saucers, and his mouth frozen in a freakishly fearful grimace but the thought of being strong for Her helped calm him enough to believe he could possibly endure this hell-ride without losing his lunch.   He heard her laugh....wait, LAUGH?  Suddenly there was no more time for thinking, or fear, or hand holdin... “eeeeeaaaarrrrRRRGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”