Author: Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

In response to Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Story Swap #8 “SURVIVAL”

He wore flowing robes in white and blush rose. I had never seen such a beautiful color, not before or since. He walked slowly, His robes swirling around His bare feet. He looked as though He was skating on air, no sound did His tread make.

Entranced, I watched Him come closer. He smelled of ocean breezes and frosty mountain air. His eyes a deep chocolate, small crinkles at the edges spoke of laughter, worry, strife and redemption.

“You can not do this thing you contemplate My lady,” He spoke. His voice velvet soft, enveloped me in warmth and care.

“I called out for You. I cried for You. I begged, but You did not come. I have no desire to keep fighting, to keep struggling, to keep hurting,” I whispered.

“But yet, you must. You will My lady. You are the light they will follow. You are the strength that will be needed. Without you, all will be lost. Without you, I will be lost. Only you hold Me deep within your heart. Only you hold true love for Me within your soul. So you see, you must survive, you will survive. For Me,” He said softly.

“For You,” I echoed even softer.

By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

Shadow dear shadow,
do you know from where
you’ve come?

Are you aware at all,
of where you will go
in the fall and in the winter?

Shadow dear shadow,
at blazing summers zenith
you stand full and tall.

Chasing suns rays
across a blue horizon,
flickering as clouds pass by.

Shadow dear shadow
how you dance in the wind,
dipping gracefully against the gale.

I will miss your quiet strength,
your testament to the hot season.
Until next year, farewell dear shadow.

By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

In response to dVerse Poets Pub
Prosery Prompt Piece 144 Words
to include – “I’d like, too, to plant the sweet alyssum that smells like honey and peace.”

Walking the long winding path to the plot where my father lay. We stood hand in hand gazing
down at the flattened mound covered in soft green grass.

The breeze gentle, the sun warm but not hot
on our necks bent in reverence. The double tombstone bore his name, birth and death date.

The other side of the massive granite monolith was engraved with mother’s name and birthdate. The script upon the gleaming white stone sat in
silence awaiting the date of her death.

“Soon I will be laying here beside my love. I’d like, too, to plant the sweet alyssum that smells like honey and peace here above us.” We planted that very day.

I walk alone along the winding paths of the vast cemetery. A breeze lifts the hair from my neck, delivering the scent of sweet alyssum blossoms to my nose.

By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

Trapped inside a cell
not of his own making.
A wife of many years,
successful children,
adored grand-children many.

Happy yet longing,
contentedly dissatisfied,
aching for something more,
searching to fill his soul-ache,
unknown light to fill the void.

A bright beam to lift away
the fog of ordinary.
The touch of one forbidden
yet loved and loving.
A gift to each and each other.
A balm for both, poison for one.

Discovery would ruin his world,
tailored to his liking,
the asset of his life-long work,
all gone, yet never adrift.
Still, he comes back for more.

By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

It is with considerable regret
that I comprehend the wasted
journey of my youth

Unrivaled are the young
who have time to waste
tenacious are adolescent humans

Only the present has any significance
while their bones are agile
body’s able to climb

Smiling lips crack upward
at the site of bees in Spring
displaying glistening teeth

A face full of wonder
invincible expectations
ignoring the old woman rocking

Rocking, rocking, rocking,
Remembering with regret
the wasted journey of her youth

By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

The mirror lies to me daily
each time I gaze into its glass
I see what should be me
but is not

Others see an aged woman
looking back at them
Body abused by the passage
of time

Thinking do they
as I did too at that age
I will never get like that
no not me

It happens quite quickly
this mirror image change
Perhaps not or I forgot to look
as years passed

Now I look in the mirror
and see someone else
that can’t be me
but it is – me

Hosted by Journeys With Johnbo

Photograph’s by Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

She never felt a thing
not the first twinge
not the sharp impale
of debilitating pain
That came later

Upon her chest
a tight white bandage
wound tautly to staunch
or assist in her life’s
blood seeping from her

His back to her he walked away
Red splotches forming
upon the stark white cloth
widening with each
of his retreating steps

By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

Night drips through the hours
as molasses through a sieve.
Each tormented minute
measured by the clocks
onerous ticking.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Daylight streams through mottled
curtains just as sleep begins
to claim the nights wakeful victim.
Suns rays beat on a body assailed
by age, despair and loneliness.

Blackness creeps over the sea,
across the mountains and valleys
to persecute it’s innocent pawn.
Robbing her, stealing from her
the rejuvenating slumber to heal.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Each turn of the Equator
around and around the sun.
Facing in, facing out
trailing into years that in the end,
become mere seconds in time.