Author: Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

In response to bwarren’s Sunday Whirl Wordle #684

She would not release her human,
though she was now one of the fallen.
He was handsome and captivating and hers,
the shrieks of the pack would not dissuade her.

The howl broke through her reverie,
her breath scattered leaves to drift in the wind.
Her anger festers within her chest,
until she can no longer contain her ire.

Now is the time to assert her true self,
now is when she will reveal what she can do.
Today is the day when four legs become two,
tomorrow she and hers will prevail.

Reach for the stars,
no one ever said.
Reach for the moon first,
myself said to me.

In the far away distance,
and sometimes out-of-sight,
Luna rises high above,
taunting sightless eyes.

Hands clutch Her glowing rays,
open holding nothing.
Fingers illuminated in the night,
touch everything.

Elusive as a hummingbird,
in a summer breeze,
Impermanent as a single snowflake,
in the warmth of spring.

Reach for a dream,
in broad daylight.
Reach for the stars,
there’s none up there.

Nighttime’s heaven glitters,
with beautiful promises.
Daytime steals their reality,
hiding them all away.

Today I felt old,
really old,
truly old,
For the first time.

I was treated old,
feeble and
demeaningly old,
Looking out from the inside.

Yesterday I was young,
so very young,
unknowingly young,
Bright future ahead.

To know my worth,
without derision,
without remorse,
To be the person I am meant to be.

Today I give thanks
for what was
for what is
Thanks for what might have been.

A tattered garden lays frayed
beyond redemption, beyond salvage
Spirits rustle curled brown leaves
their stories belonging to the past

History hungers for the future
devouring the tattered remnants of the present
Flowers raised by a loving female body
no longer rise beside her walk

Deep beneath the rich, loamy soil
seeds sown long ago
Await the warmth and care of another
sleeping until tomorrow

I am very excited to learn that my essay, My Uncle the Fisherman has been accepted for publication in The Bangalore Review! Unknown publishing date at this time. Whoo hoo!

It’s right here in The Dummies 101.0 Book of Raising Humans! I have read this so many times, I can quote it backwards. Not only that, I have taught it in the herd’s puppy-school class every Sunday for the past nine years!

Look, come here and I’ll prove it to you. See, it’s even within the ten paw-prints laid out on the inside front cover, this is how we control them.

“Choose the most foul, corrupt, immoral, unintelligent, evil human among them and make him their leader and they will all fall.”

You see Princess, all we have to do is wait, and it really will be a dog’s world!

And so it begins
the third and final
reign of terror
the ultimate battle
between good and evil

Civil rights revoked
against the non-majorities
False charges against
accused aliens
not of this country

Assignations with past mortal enemies
assassination’s of those who do not agree
and those who do not adhere
massive open graves and falsified reports

Destruction of earth
for money and power
destruction of society
allowing their will to conquer freedom

The most evil has risen
exalted there by the most evil among us
by the hopeful poor swayed
by promises of wealth and health

By the less than common man
corrupted by the brash speech
and unfiltered tongue of the
vile creature soon to be called president

Women who should have been most afraid
voting for a user, an abuser and adulterer
with no other reason except he might change
or he will make change or girls like bad boys

Abusers never change
maliciousness never dissipates
Vulgarity can not be stemmed
and evil is evil – the beast has been freed

Ravaged by indistinguishable masks
misunderstood meanings tangled
within a weave of sighs and untruths
leaving ashes to soak in tears on the floor

Fire burns skin to blue
a soul to emerge and flip
into the timeless void
happiness permeates the grief

Sorrow to joy
anger to love
pain to relief
agony to ecstasy

In a realm ghoulish and cold
dead witches of old
wait all year for this night

An eve when wicked tricks
they weave from within their crypt
to cast a spell into the wind

They spin it and twist it
then wrap it around
all witches buried underground

As one they all rise on broomsticks as one
seeking the innocent
to wreck Halloween Fun!

Masts that stretch into the sky
reaching heavenward
to catch the sea’s breeze
and fly

Motors idle warming up
diesel’s fume and gasoline burns
searching through oceans depths
for shrimp pink and plump

Mother Nature tempts the sailor man
with morsels and tidbits
found neath her skirts
left there by her nurturing hand

Mud slides and great tsunami’s
does she wield
when her children mistreat
and go against her policies

Madness reigns upon her surface
man against man
and man against woman
to control her uterus

Mothers and daughters
forced to choose sides
fathers resigned
to worship green fodder

Morning arises in full glory
landscape littered
with leaves of the fallen
Mother Nature ends another story