Author: Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

It is with deep regret
when in the early afternoon
I must cease what I love best
to stop and allow my body room

Room to rest and cool down
from the sun I worshipped before
Before my bones ached and joints
popped like fireworks on the Fourth

The Fourth of July has nothing
compared to the sounds of my body
Just to bend over and pluck a weed
from between stones of my walkway

With angst and quite an influx
of disbelief at the state I am now in
When active and non-stationary
in life my body and I have always been

I protest this thing I am experiencing
at this time when in the golden years
I am supposed to be free and thriving
Yet free I am not in old imprisonment

So I rest here in my comfy recliner
throughout the heat of the afternoon
Yet mark the words of this old woman
I will be back out in my garden very soon!

Inconspicuous little plant
your runners sneak
beneath the most ardent eye.

Little bits of grassy leaves,
barely visible entwined
with bigger garden plants.

Oh, but wait until Spring
and the first torrential rain
and a Rain Lily field will ascend.

Suddenly as if conjured
by a Garden Witch’s magic wand,
thousands of blooms arise.

Colors galore, pop up from the Earth,
lifting graceful petals from the snow as the sun coats the ground in its warmth.

In an effort to be romantic
at the beginning
of their new marriage
this is true there’s no yard-spinning

Father foraged near and far looking for a star flower reminding him
of grandma’s hand-sewn
Swedish lace doilies again

Finally he came upon
a field that was miles and miles wide filled from top to bottom
with the lacey blooms he had in mind

He stopped and picked those flowers
full blooms every one
Then took them home and placed
them in containers all over the room

Mother came home and took a breath
a strange look upon her face
before she could utter a word
wild sneezing did commence

She sneezed so hard she could barely breathe and off to the hospital they went Mother’s angry red face the only clue he’d get

After shots of Benadryl and
some magic drops in her nose
She was sent home her new
husband in sad repose

Upon entry into the house now
clear of all white flora
She asked my father tell me true
Why try to kill me with that horror ?

He answered her quite sheepishly
at least that’s how I’m told it goes
You said you had some allergies
I equated with a runny nose

She told him again same as she did back then Queen Anne’s Lace makes me deathly ill – so if you forget again I might make a mistake and give you a

☠️ Penicillin Pill! ☠️

Body betrays
sleep evades
endless pain
relenting – unending

No relief
alone misunderstood
quiet torture
endurance – futile

Future unseen
past contorted
daily aggrandized
nights – interminable

Suffering companionless
fatigue victorious
solitude unbearable
reprieve – unimaginable

A gift of love
a gift of light
A gift of how
our life could be

Fiery red blooms
start off small and shy
Burst open with color
beneath a hot sky

Summer winds are welcome
to cool our Passion Flower
Summer nights cherished
rejuvenating rain showers

With each day that passes
the blooms grow more profuse
Reflecting love and laughter
more and more effuse

Butterflies and bees alike
are friends to your purple blooms
Rabbits and deer do not
feel the same at all
They steer clear of your
endearing aroma and taste

A profusion of bright rosy petals
are delicate and tricky
Their aftertaste
lacks much in taste
making this a must walk passer
for all but it’s loving human gardener

Skeletons dreams
block memories
suffering from a lost
promise broken
and wandering

The call of life
forces humanity
to it’s knees
Must want to listen
to the message
or stream into oblivion

Angel wings adorn your sides,
lovely tail feathers from behind
with curled ridges resembling claws
and ruffled petals like hairy paws.

It is no wonder cats screech and scratch, when placed beside a
Nepeta plant, thinking a puppy
they’ve just supplanted.

You make nice tea,
a domestic remedy
and as for cats
make them happy as can be!

At night you slowly unfurl
releasing your sweet scent
into a dark world

Few have seen you
in full glory invisibly
glowing beneath moons rays

Inexplicably you
thrive with the many
and varied creatures of the night

Into our dreams
you creep and seek
to draw romance into our lives

Your magic surrounds us
your mystery astounds us
until morn you hide away once more

For Jean-Marie

There is a lovely lady
I only know by her name
In this world of technology
nothing is the same

Trial and tribulations
many has she known
Kindness and guidance
is all she’s ever shown

Beneath that artful smile
and her gift of weaving words
Her body does betray her
what we see is barely a third

Of what she must endure
day in and day out
From her you rarely hear
complaint not even a shout

This little poem is just for you
my teacher my mentor my friend
To tell you how very blessed I am
so this poem to you I send 💜