Category: Author

By Gypsie Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

In response to April’s Batch of Virtual Poetorium Poetry Prompt Photo Provided by Paul Szlosek

There is a house
way down that hill
People live there still

In that house
you were born
While I was shucking corn

You came to me
and stayed with me
Like fruit upon the tree

Your pa and me
on bended knee
Worked late into the eve

We did not know
how could we know
The hand that God would show

At ten years old
you were deemed a man
The foreman with cuffs he clad

Your wrists behind your back
pa fought to get you free – I cried
We’ll get you back some day my son

I didn’t know then
that I lied.

FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER: 2022: WEEK #16
by rogershipp

It was almost over. All the heartache. All the strife. All the pain. One step onto that bridge and it would all be left behind.

No more ugly words and recriminations. No more accusations, half-truths, slights and outright verbal attacks.

One small step and the bitterness of loneliness would disappear, swallowed into a great black void of nothingness; or whatever was on the other side of this bridge. Heaven or Armageddon?

Others passed her by, bumping into her, jostling her in their scramble to get to the other side.

Another jerk and a long, hard pull found her at the very threshold of the bridge. Shadows moved on the other side. Mist undulated over the landscape. A mighty roar rang out, then three loud gongs signaling the closing of the bridge.

Take a step, just take a step. Something tugged harder. She wavered. Across the bridge was nearly everyone she loved and cared for. Lifting a small, frail foot above the glistening cedar of the long foot-bridge, she leaned forward then stopped.

A noise, coming from a distance far away rang familiar. There it was again! Turning away from the bridge, she did not see it dissipate.

The voice was closer now, distinguishable.“Grandma? Grandma are you awake?”

By (Gypsie) Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

In Response to the NaPoWriMon challenge via Bartholomew Barker to write a poem about a very large thing.

Massive it is
with talons sharp
Play with it some try
those that do often die

Words are not made
to describe this thing
The hearts it has broken
never again will sing

A monstrous thing
Entrapping our world
completely
Unequivocally without compare

Decimating families
with ferocity and strength
Ripping lovers apart
Inciting hatred between friends

Knowing not how to tame
or slay it
Father’s lose sons
Mother’s lose daughters

Mighty beast! Greedy beast!
Sacrifice not one more child
Take not another mother
or father away –
Addiction

By Gypsie~Ami Offenbacher~Ferris

In response to Brenda Warren
our hostess for The Sunday Whirl.
You can join in here.

The words are: sliver, breath, sent, plans, hours, minutes, chime, drive, write, light, crime, match.

Hour after hour
the minutes pass
Labored breath matches
a drive chimed only
by the agonizing light
Slivers of sunrise
write of my crime
upon a canvas of black
Matched only by plans
sent by the glow
of a disapproving moon

By ~Gypsie Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

She did not believe it. Not now and not ever. She refused to allow one inkling of their suggestion to enter her mind, or heart.

“Babe, be reasonable before you freak out and end up like your mother as well, two in the family are quite enough!” That certainly elicited a response from his young wife.

She turned at him, glowering.

“Don’t you even think it husband mine! Should I ever display those kinds of barbaric, heinous tendencies in your presence, you’ve my express permission to shoot me dead!” Tears ran down her high, plump cheeks.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Babe,” he pretended to ruminate on her statement in earnest until she nailed him squarely in the face with one of her fluffy, lace trimmed decorator pillows; the ones no one was allowed to actually use.

She laughed and loved him even more for making her laugh. Things would be alright, she just knew it.

Growing serious once again, she tucked the pretty pillow under her neck, arms and breasts, unconsciously rocking back and forth.

He pulled her into his arms, cradling her head against his chest. The pillow was tossed toward the headboard where it lay untimely she deftly returned it to its original resting place.

A shrill scream of pain and subsequent silence pierced the air and their ears.

The boy stood on the top stair, their prized sweet goose hanging by the neck, limp in his tight little fists.

By ~Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

In response to picture prompt DISTANCE provided by KL Caley from New to Writing

“Mable, Mable! Wake up!” The male shook his wife vigorously. He’d never known anyone that could sleep like his wife.

“Mable! Wake up, I think I’ve found sustenance! Come on!”

Mable roused at the mention of food, how long had it been since they’d eaten anything at all healthy or nutritious for either of them?

She rolled her rather large self up off of the soft bed of hay to peer up at her
much smaller, but currently highly animated husband.

“What do you see Dandy Randy?” She felt his excitement and moved up to be beside him. He really was exquisite, that’s why she had chosen him and why she’d dubbed him Dandy Randy the first time he had presented and preened for her.

Dandy Randy rubbed against her, a show of affection.

“There, do you see it? It comes and goes, sort of blinking, but very bright when it blinks on our way. I’m positive it’s calling to us Mable. It wants us to go to it. Do you feel it too?”

“Oh yes, yes, yes! There must be food there, why else would it be signaling us? It will be so nice to have something to eat besides this dried up hay!” With one large wing, she waved toward the huge expanse of wheat and barley as far as they could see.

“Mable darling,” Dandy Randy hesitated. “Sweetheart, it’s a long way across the blue liquid. There may be dangerous things beneath and since you laid your larvae, you’re not as well … you haven’t fully recovered yet. Do you think you can make it love?” He really was concerned.

“I’m as fit as you are, bigger and stronger too so don’t you forget it!”

He knew she was upset with him because she didn’t call him Dandy Randy.

Before he could explain or issue an apology, she lifted off with her expansive wings and was out over the blue expanse in seconds.

“Mable, wait! You are flying too low, lift Mable lift!” Dandy Randy shouted at her as his much smaller but faster wings almost caught him up to her. He was too late! He saw the huge beast beneath the surface tracking his beloved. He opened his mouth to shout again when she suddenly slowed and called back to him over her beautiful, furred shoulder.

“Are you shouting at me as well now?” The beast leapt out of the blueness just in front of Mable. Had she not slowed down to wait for her husband, she would have been a snack for that monster. She owed him her life and she knew it.

Tears filled her luminous eyes, making her even more beautiful to Dandy Randy.

As he reached her, he gently nudged her up higher. Not too high or those horrid white flying things would be on them, tearing and rending them to pieces. He urged her to fly on, a little faster and more aware.

She watched below and he watched above. Sometimes their wings would touch and they’d smile that smile that married couples do.

Dandy Randy glanced behind him many times, keeping an eye on the swarm of swimming things that tracked their progress. Once in a while one of the slimy creatures would would leap at them, but the couple were flying well above the blue moving surface to worry about it.

“Almost there,” Dandy Randy raised his voice to be heard over the rapidly rising wind.

“It’s so beautiful,” Mable exclaimed only a few seconds before … “SPLAT!” … “SPLAT!”

By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

In response (I think) to ROUND 3 posted by f3gastonia

Explanation: I found this in my draft folder dated September 2022, never posted. I thought to go ahead and post it since my last post was somewhat depressing and this one would help elevate the mood and it has Christmas in it too!

Quicken winked at Quilt
when passing through one day
She blushed in hues of red and blue

Quilt looked up so shy and sweet
Her squares lined up perfectly
very straight and wonderfully neat

Demurely did she smile and say
Quicken you must quit this day
Friends we are and friends we’ll stay

Quilt I can not said Quicken to Quilt
Your colors do swirl and capture me Keeping me completely atilt

My weaver wove a heavenly cast
into my squares and meant to last
for years to come and was a gift

But this lovely quilt is not for you
Sewn with love so very true
A little boy I’ve been made for

So quit this day Quicken Sir
for it’s not here
this quilt will stay

But swaddling a babe
with care and love
early on Christmas Day

By ~Gypsie~Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

Written in response to April 6th #1MinFiction Picture Challenge by Cyranny

“Spock, Suggestions?” Whispered Captain Kirk.

“I have not formulated a logical escape plan Captain,” Answered Mr. Spock stoically.

“What do you mean you don’t have a way to get us out of this?” Kirk hissed.

Mr. Spock peered at Captain Kirk speculatively.

“I did not say I do not have a way out Captain. I merely stated I do not have a logical way for us to escape this situation. There is one option however, Captain …”

“Well, spit it out Spock,” Kirk hissed through clinched teeth, holding onto the glass dome, protecting them from the massive Serock. “SPOCK! ”

Letting go of the straps holding the heavy protective dome in place, Spock said quietly,

“The Serock only ingests red blood cells Captain …”

By Gypsie~Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

In response to word prompt piece submitted by NOX for The Daily Spur.

A little piece you take with you
each time you have to leave anew.
All of you, you leave with me
wearing your heart on my sleeve.

That little piece she hides away
as you go about your day.
As for me I carry you mile by mile,
day by day upon my smile.

Then once the miles have gone away
and the passage of time has swayed,
as the clock it clicks on down
the pieces gone are once again found.

By (Gypsie) Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

Response to photo prompt above for April 4 Story Challenged in 99-words hosted by Charli Mills for Carrot Ranch Literary Community.

“These creatures are quite ruthless in their pursuit of breakfast, lunch or dinner. They will not give up until they have a tasty treat in their little beaks; mainly me! They are ravenous little beings whose only purpose on this Earth is to eat me and those like me.

My name is Georgio Piccolo Francis Worm and I am, a worm. Thus the name. I’ve survived the longest, so was chosen to teach the little wormettes how to remain free of a certain death by mastication, although the little chicks do not actually chew how horrible to be …. Aheeeeeeeeeeee!!!”