Yard
By Ami (Gypsie) Offenbacher-Ferris
A man’s greatest challenge
is to bring life to a bare yard
A fathers greatest joy
to see his children playing there
Against the odds of nature
into sand and soil
He plants the fertile seeds
pressing deep into the ground
No matter sand or desert
without shade or rain
Tiny shoots of tender green
delicately open to the sun
Finally reaching toward the sky
higher and higher do they climb
Only to start all over again
Mowed down by Dad’s loving hand
Response to Writer’s Digest prompt 50 words
If two halves make a whole, then shouldn’t it be
twalves or twole?
As I pondered this twisted riddle we shall now call a
Tiddle,
I came upon these there and those and wondered aloud
If said out loud, why couldn’t they just be throse?
Please don’t stick your cold nose in my toes
Around my toes I wear nice warm
clothes
Not a furry little doggy nose
Trying to sniff and lick my pinky toes
My socks are to stay on my chilly feet
Not as chew toys for those sharp little
teeth
Socks are made to remain discreet
They are not treats I wear on my feet
That hat you have hidden under Dad’s
chair
Is Grandpa’s hat that covers his hair
It’s not your round chewy toy hiding
there
Go get that hat from beneath that chair
Mother’s scarf from India it came
She doubts she’ll ever go back again
Tearing it up is such a foolish game
Still you grabbed it and after you she
came
Come here my little rapscallion puppy
This blanket displaying a bright orange guppy
Is yours now from me all warm and
lumpy
I will always be happiest with my new puppy
Ami (Gypsie) Offenbacher-Ferris
You can’t hear me
I am speaking beneath your voice
droning on and on
a muddle of senseless prattle
You know I am speaking
You know I can hear you
You do not have to shout
and stomp about like a circus clown
I am listening to you
I can understand you
I remain stoically silent
after so many years
you notice my muteness
Your hands on my shoulders
wanting me to speak to you
I can not speak to you
speechlessness arrests my voice
invisible words of loneliness and despair
spill from my throat but you can not hear
My utterances remain without form
See my words drowning in sorrow
Hear my words ravaged by pain
Feel my words buried in heartache
Heed words mired in rhetorical anger
Why can’t you hear me?
Gypsie’s Wonderful World of Words 