Author: Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

Weekly Prompts Wednesday Challenge – End
Hosted by Gerry C. & Susan W.

The end I fear
is near not far
Don’t shed a tear
or waste a frown

My days were short
my nights were long
each hour with you
a special song

Happiness and joy prevailed
while others lost
I was not derailed
my course remained true to you

Although the road
comes to an end
Tricky me
I’ve found a bend!

Night envelope me
into the darkness of
your inky blackness

Force away the pain
endured during
the days of wakefulness

Cruel you are
to deprive me of dreams
sweet and free of agony

The hour is only
barely past midnight
and still I walk the halls

Sleep beckons and I fall
into its mesmerizing state
while standing on two feet

When to the bed I take
I stay awake until dawn washes through my window and I sleep

Path paved by weathered stones
green moss and spindly weeds
compete for the favored spots
where rainwater sleuths off the edges

Shucked sunflower seed shells
by the hundreds cover the once
pretty garden stepping-stones
bearing pairs of pink flamingo’s

An empty bird feeder dangles
listlessly above the decorated
rocks turned stepping-stones
empty and home to bug eating spiders

The feeder a stark testament as former feeder of all birds blue or red or black but the woodpecker’s loved the dark sunflower seeds most

Time passes by as long and slow
as a river of sweet molasses
and faster than a tsunami great
while truly not passing at all

I hear his voice
speaking to me
inconsequential
mundane meanderings
about the news and the day

Glancing up from my reading
I pause to answer him
his chair sits empty
but remains warm
indented

A shadow passes by
I look up quickly
glancing at the outline
a memory only
because no one is there

I am so excited and honored to announce my piece, “Phases (In A Woman’s Life),” has been scheduled for publication on 8/28/23 at 1:30am Eastern Time (ET) by Spillwords.com.

Once it is published, you can access it through the following link:

https://spillwords.com/phases-in-a-womans-life/

Thank you Dagmara K. And Spillwords for your consideration and support!

Beautiful baby as you peer
into the mirror reflecting
your image back to your
unseeing eyes blinded
by glossy magazines filled
with images of unreal
and photoshopped people –

especially women,

How I wish you could see what I see through eyes
tinged with age and experience wisdom born of both to know
and understand that you as you are right now you are so much more beautiful than they will ever be

Your lovely skin even when
an occasional blemish pops through
is a natural creamy essence
they only obtain through manufactured
products and the almighty airbrush
effect computers furnish to disguise
the true faces of those you see there –

especially women,

That which you seek to become
is but a fantasy created by greed
and out of control commercialism
set about to make women of all ages
feel less than they are as they peer
into their mirrored reflection
as you are doing right now

Fight back my loves! Do not fall
into the trap of money-hungry CEO’s
and their advertising cronies who care
naught for the care of your skin or
the sheen of your hair and eyes rimmed only by those sweet long natural lashes
untinged by black goop and glue –

especially women,

Break the mold and break their bank
start your own trend stand up for what’s right and against a standard
that can never be met nor achieved
in the real and natural world where
everyone is born with beauty emanating from within shining through –

especially women!

Pain, physical pain,
is a constant.
Never ending,
always changing.
Sometimes easing,
always increasing.

Pain, an invisible shroud
discoloring a colorful world.
Muting harmonic music
into discordant pulses
of unwelcome sound.
An emotional succubus.

Emotional pain, heartache,
longing, loneliness, aloneness.
Sometimes ending,
ever changing its intensity.
Damaging the heart and soul
of the unwary and inexperienced.

Emotional pain, centered within
a chest, a mind, a stomach and
oftentimes all three; renders a person
incapacitated, wounded, dying
a slow death unseen and unheard
by anyone except the bearer.

Peace, a brief respite slips inside
quietly, unobtrusively.
No fanfare, no fuss, no rending and tearing of flesh or soul thread.
A reprieve offered by sunlight and rain.
Flowers bloomed and sweet earthsong.

It is a lonely affair to be alone
completely alone
without a spouse
or loved one
not even estranged children
or long lost friends
in the eve of one’s life

Ostracized from a community once loved and beloved service received graciously
and service given willingly
years of respected work
hard but rewarding labor
flushed away by the malicious machinations of a friend

When the sun is setting and the days grow ever shorter
taking me closer into the endless
yawning night that lies ahead
the hearts of people so easily turned by deceitful statements and
falsified records depicting duplicity

So it is I go alone into the abyss
without a smiling face beside me or a warm hand to stroke my face or wipe the tears of pain and sadness slipping from my eyes as I leave this world to enter the next fervently hoping the next part
of my journey is not such a lonely affair

In the Deep South, a young girl argued unsuccessfully with her momma.

“I ain’t lyin momma. Jez and me sawr it an was near ‘tacked by a lion!”

Jez waggled his head up and down furiously in agreement.

“A lyin, a lyin!” He stated emphatically.

“You see? Even Jez says you is lyin!” Momma admonished.

“No, momma! He’s sayin it all wrong. He’s sayin lion, we sawr a lion!”

Papa ran into his home, out of breath and slammed the front door with a bang.

“Momma, you and the yung-uns git to the back of the house. I ain’t lyin, there’s a huge lion just lyin right there in our front garden in-between the liam tree and Mr. Lyon’s old well!”