Gypsie’s Wonderful World of Words

Ropes bind wrists
bruised dark purple
against marble pure skin

Legs move restless
waiting for a chance to escape
the flickering candlelight

Waves of hypnotic chanting
slip into her soul
leaving an empty void behind

An ornate fan disperses incense
her pulse slows to its rhythm
her eyes close and she sleeps

Who shall ever elect the Cabinet, but the cabinet makers themselves who should of course, be the actual members of the Cabinet meant to not only advise the President of the United States but, be prepared as his acceptable emergency stand-in replacement.

In response to TWT’s 8th-Week prompt – Knight, in 20 words.

I am a poet, an author,
a photographer and a mother.
A grandmother, companion
to beloved fur-babies
and a lover.

Up late one recent evening,
being of ill health
and a raging insomniac,
I clicked upon my blog to see
what I could see.

My heart swelled as I noticed
my lover had responded
to one of my more serious poems,
to which there are very few
at times.

At that very moment,
quite opportune to be sure,
I saw someone else opened,
read and pressed like on the poem,
I assumed because he did too.

Then an astonished event occurred,
I could scarcely believe my eyes!
The person was the speediest reader
I had ever come across
never in my entire life.

Not one or two poems did he like,
but at least fifteen more
all at nearly the very same time,
I rechecked the time stamp upon them,
just to be sure.

Instead of reciprocating, and not out
of spite or angst, I removed the persons subscription, deleted his name from my list,
and removed his name from my memory.
Too many clicks mean I see you, toodle-oo!
.

The brim coated with salty intemperance
green liquid goodness simmering tempting
A first trickle of feel good to the mind
with its vast concoction of mood altering brew

As a habit goes there could be worse
but none better to keep the shadows at bay
Their secretive mumblings and cajoling
threaten the roots of my inconsistent sanity

Do not judge this nor throw unkind stones
lest karma decides that one day too
Unbeknownst to you and all involved
that awful habitual axe could fall!

Painting by Denise Wood, Fleming Island, FL Artwork available on Etsy.com

Let sails unfurl
feel their quiet reprise
No motoring noise
to mask nature’s joy

A gentle wind billows
filling her canvas so full
Easily though they pull
her boat right on through

A gust suddenly arises
taking all by surprise
Except the good ship Leahre
who takes it all in her stride

Though the winsome waves
may chop and they may churn
Sweet little ship and her skipper
keep us safe bow to stern

Mine enemy is not my neighbor
though in truth they irritate me so
Mine enemy is not the striped bee
his yellow jacket all aglow

Mine enemy is not the jet black crow
eating my songbirds elite seed
Mine enemy is not the hovering vultures
they are hungry and also in need

Mine enemy is not the mounds of ants
burrowing tunnels beneath my grass
Mine enemy is not the blazing sun
turning my green lawn into liquid brass

Mine enemy is the turning hands
upon the ever ticking clock of time
Mine enemy is the deep dark pain
that never leaves this body of mine

What a wondrous event our ancestors
watched just as we ourselves watch now.
To touch their minds through space and time
as we lift our eyes to the heavens.
In this moment of suspended awareness,
we become one with the universe,
Entwined in her majestic mystery
and enthralled by her grace.

The skies darken above Earth Mother,
giving respite to her churning seas, blazing deserts and shifting continents, reminding humanity that we are a part of it all –

Not the all of it.