By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris
(This weekend your challenge is to write a poem or a piece of prose in exactly 31 words using the word “Return.”)
Return to me
from whence you’ve gone
Not over the sea
still gone too long
Back to your life
away from me
Back to your world
where you’re meant to be
By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris
What sin did I commit
What wrong did I do
To incur this wicked
wrath from You
When fatigue grabs my body
through and through
and I lay down to rest
What is it that You do
Plant ants in my bones
and feathers along my thighs
You tickle and taunt
keeping me awake all night
Once reclined onto my soft pillow
I can no longer lay nor can I sit
My legs carry on with their peculiar uncomfortable fit
They twitch they kick
they jerk and squirm
so I rise again to pace
away the feelings and burn
Praying this night to find some rest
sleep deprived I am at a my worst
Whatever did I do to deserve this blasted restless leg curse
By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris
(300 words)
The somnologist glanced at her day planner. Her field of sleep afforded her an intriguing career. Her nine o’clock appointment was with Mr. Kirkpatrick. His fascination with ferris wheels had led him, on her advice, to purchase a working replica of one. He slept soundly every night now.
Ms. Robbins’ case was more delicate. She did not have any hobbies or particular fields of interest, save one. A hand-held device assisted with her more lascivious needs and did the trick.
More clients arrived for their appointments. Lunch then, more clients and then the last client of the day, a first-time, new client.
The arrival bell rang at her patient entrance and she beeped him in. A tall, well-built man walked into her office. Nice looking, she thought. He did not display the tell-tale signs of sleep deprivation, as so many of her patients did.
After greeting him and motioning him to either the chair or lounger, she sat behind her desk to observe him. He had one of those well practiced, testosterone filled smiles that could entice the most timid of females to become little more than a pile of hormonal mush when bestowed upon them.
Luckily, the sleep doctor was immune to those kind of parlor tricks. The new patient, Mr. Antonio Blaque, seemed slightly disconcerted by her lack of response.
He shook her hand, remained standing, she assumed it was an intimidation tactic that would have not a bit of effect on her.
“I understand you provide your clients with what they need, enabling them to sleep?”
“That’s a simplistic way of putting it but, this is true,” she answered.
He walked behind her, a purple scarf in his hand.
“Good,” he whispered, tightening the scarf around her neck in a tight, deadly, grip.
By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris
WRITEPHOTO Challenge – Seahorse
Hosted by KL Caley @ New2Writing
I often wish that I could be
a lovely Sea Dragon
swimming so pretty and free
Far far down beneath the sea
a beauty few have ever seen
that’s where I truly long to be
With purple fins and a purple tail
and inside me a rainbow’s tale
a colorful mirage of glistening scales
So tiny and so very small
the slightest tide a major squall
where beauty rides in one and all
Where men exquisite in their care
take on the children’s weight to bear
he keeps them tucked away in there
Nothing can reach his sweet little fry
though many creatures try and try
that Daddy Sea Dragon is very sly
He tucks them in safe and sound
not even gaining a single pound
and Mom Dragon goes catting around
By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris
Look at all the puppets
hanging there
Presidents, Queens, and Kings
dangling in mid-air
Past this gruesome spectacle
of political debauchery
Look for specter’s in Congress
and Supreme Court botchery
Each and every elected official
those sworn to protect us and serve
Personal agenda’s they all carry
Their sworn oaths no longer observed
These cords only we can sever
No more control by gun fanatics,
oil mongers and pharmaceuticals
Need to replace all these phenetic’s
Hosted by CBialczak @ Stein Writing
By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris
(100 words)
It was there, she could see it. The magic spinning wheel. Only the queen had been allowed to touch it and before that, the queen mother and so on. Since the queens death, no one had dared touch it, not even to put it away for safe-keeping.
The lovely young maid, longed to place her slender hands on the rich, dark mahogany surface, it called to her mournfully. She could hear how badly it wanted to sing. She could make it sing, she knew it.
Gingerly, timidly she sat upon the stool and placed her hand on the wheel.
By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris
I can’t believe it, I found it! I actually found it!
I reread the first line I’d written in my diary. Was that only a few days ago? How long had I been here?
I couldn’t tell. I was deep, very deep underground. My cell was small but not inhumanely so, thank goodness. Especially considering how very small these people are.
My backpack had been searched, my utility knife confiscated as well as my lighter and camp utensils, but they let me keep everything else. Well, almost everything. They got very excited when they found my cell phone, which they also took.
So, I have my diary, my pen and pencil and my clothes. I’m locked in a cell, fed four times a day and let out twice to relieve myself, always under guard. I can see no way to escape, yet.
It wasn’t until a group of young Gnome men started viewing me in my cell at regular intervals, that I realized; I was up for sale.
By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris
Not this way
turn yourself around
the way to my heart
is closed permanently now
No more heart aches
no more pain
I don’t want this to ever
happen again
Pay heed to the sign
it’s dangerous up there
much safer to play
down here without care
Let broken hearts suffer
alone no more
keep moving and shuffling
right on out of the door
Leave my sign hanging
untouched and unmarred
lest tomorrow I’m forced
to seal it shut with metal bars
Gypsie’s Wonderful World of Words 