By (Gypsie) Ami Offenbacher-Ferris
She travels across continents
bringing food and fresh water
to those on her banks
to her populace
Snaking through the land
feeding monkey, ape and man
Deity for thousands and thousands of years
Older than old
and nearly the longest on Earth
Narmada River gave us all birth
so protect her we must
(Gypsie) Ami Offenbacher-Ferris
March 21, 2022 prompt provided by Charli Mills of Carrot Ranch Literary Community. In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story to reflect the theme, “Ready for a change.”
Stones crunch beneath my feet. This past Fall’s leaves becoming dust months ago. Buds are opening on the Bradford Pear tree’s, hopefully not too early this year; would love to see the tree’s adorned in their lovely white pantaloons instead of the little brown nubula’s of the past several years.
Yes, I meant nubula. It’s my word. More than a nebula, but less than a bud. A nubula.
You see, I’m ready for a change in vocabularies. Tired of the predominantly used text talk of our time; I want words that exercise betterment, so I shall invent my own.
By (Gypsie) Ami Offenbacher-Ferris
In response to photo prompt provided by KL Caley for WritePhoto
It comes tonight
As It does every night
The moment I close my eyes
It reaches from the depths to grab me
This night is the same
I vowed my eyes stay open
But my weary body has betrayed me
Its spiny fingers clutch my very soul
Screams with no sound resound
My mouth still all movement frozen
Its evil intent to do harm to me clear
Dragging me down the steps down
Down the circular curvature of brick
and mortar to Its home beneath here
Hands reach out scratching grabbing
Silent painful screams pierce my ears
A building below – A vault!
Hands shoving me forward wanting begging pleading to seal me in with It
Struggling more I pray to the Light
Sharply I awake a real scream curling from my throat The one sleeping next to me shakes me awake -You stopped breathing- he whispers softly
By (Gypsie) Ami Offenbacher-Ferris
In response to dVerse Poets Quadrille #148 Papered Poems
44 word count only challenge
Paper paper I declare
Paper paper everywhere
Lots of paper lined in ink
Lettered paper helps me think
Paper with a glistening sheen
I don’t even know what that means
Though I love all paper to write upon
Christmas paper is the most fun
By (Gypsie) Ami Offenbacher-Ferris
To say that I am not
an accomplished drinker
Would be the truth
For in truth when I do imbibe
nothing ever goes just right
The best plans fail to materialize
Or worse become a many legged
creature completely out of control
Believe me I should know
At least I think I know
or so I’ve been told by
my lovely friends one or two
Or three but that matters not
being of Scots/Irish descent
I should be able to hold my lot
But no it’s just not so
not one lick or tiny bit
Have a drink they coerce
When the liquor hits my tongue
the fun they say – has just begun
I like to dance and twirl around
Upon the table tops and more
another drink my bestie says
the night is still so young
Unfortunate though it seems to me
young I am no more – I just poured
my lovely port into my cup of tea!
By (Gypsie) Ami Offenbacher-Ferris
Response to prompt words provided by The Sunday Whirl Wordle #545 lilt rubble scarce homes unrelenting explosion power free wicked sing spirit rise
Wind whips through homes
abandoned to the rubble
Fire stretches to engulf and swallow
old timber
Explosions rock the earth
freeing huge boulders
Power lines are flattened
the streets sing in unheard agony
Unrelenting wickedness devours
the land scarce of life
Unfettered until the lilt and call
of the human spirit rises in protest
By (Gypsie) Ami Offenbacher-Ferris
In response to word prompt vigorous posted by NOX at The Daily Spur.
“Vigoro…us, Vigoro…us, Vigoro…us,” the young tenor sang out enthusiastically.
The exasperated choir director called the young man’s attention to his mistake again.
“Once more, it’s not vigorous. It’s Figaro, sung with intent!” the director sung the passage clearly and finally the young man understood his choir director.
The next morning, the choir director entered the choir room coming to a dead stop. In the middle of the room stood a large camping tent and the very beautiful but still inarticulate voice of his student could be heard rehearsing, from inside the tent.
“What are you doing?” The choir director demanded hotly.
“What you told me to,” he smiled. “I am singing Vigorous In-Tent!”
By (Gypsie) Ami Offenbacher-Ferris
Would I sit on a box
Its top open not shut
Like a little red fox
Huddled down in his hut?
Would I ride on a train
With no doors or windows
Outside in the rain
Across great rolling meadows?
Would I walk through a swamp
All boggy and wet
Where gators would chomp
Like a salty baguette?
Would I fly on a plane
Its backdoor gaping wide
As we flew over Spain
A really rough ride
Absolutely Positively Not
Would I sit on a box or
Ride a train in the rain
Walk through a swamp
Or ride a rough plane
Give me two wheels
with pedals beneath
A sturdy hand-bar
and brakes at my feet
Then life would be sweet
By (Gypsie) Ami Offenbacher-Ferris
In response to Cyranny’s 1MinFic
Photo Prompt Challenge above for March 16, 2022 by Cyranny and Beneath the Surface Tuesday Writing Prompt Challenge March 15, 2022 by Go Dog Go Cafe’
The men stand tall and erect
in their longboats, watching beneath the surface of the murky green waters with difficulty.
Not because the water was murky or the sun was sweltering; both of which were true, but not the cause of their great distress and malady.
Forbidden emotions cloud sane thoughts. Awareness of each other forms a murky taboo
ridden web trapping them tightly.
A new-found attraction burst into being, rocking both men to the core of their souls. They couldn’t wait to delve beneath the surface tonight.
By (Gypsie) Ami Offenbacher-Ferris
Response to Reena’s Xploration Challenge #221
Uncle stared upon the blocks
The symbols all to him were lost
Uncle never learned to read
Mattered not my Uncle Sweet
Gypsie’s Wonderful World of Words 