Gypsie’s Wonderful World of Words

By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

Posted by EM’s Random Word Prompt ~ #127 Prompt Word Discordant

Like cheap strings
on a child’s play guitar
My family is discordant.

No matter how you twist
and turn the tuning knobs
Harmony is impossible to achieve.

Just as you think a pleasant sound
might sing from those tightened wires Snap goes one throwing them all out of tune again.

Friends have tried and professionals
have been paid thrice over again
But discordant my family is now
And discordant it always will be.

By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

Friday Fictioneers for April 8th, 2022 Hosted by Rochelle Wisoff and David Stewart. Write a 100-word story exactly pertaining to the photograph above.

Genre: Fiction
Title: Breakfast for Two
Word Count: 100

I was literally so excited all week, I could barely function. I found myself starting to cook breakfast for him days before it was time for our second Sunday morning breakfast date.
Finally, after days and days of worrying over what placemats to use, where the silverware was supposed to be placed; was it salad fork first or spoon? No, spoon goes over the plate, appetizer fork first. Not having appetizers before breakfast. Silly me.
We were drinking Mimosa’s made with fresh juice I’d squeezed myself.
The doorbell rang, he was here!
That’s when the emergency sirens blared to life.

By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

Wednesday April 20, 2022 Prompt via Bartholomew Barker that was a combo of the NaNoWriMo prompt and the April Poem-a-Day Challenge prompt from Write Better Poetry.
Write a poem that anthropomorphizes a kind of food, using at least three of the following six words; or go for extra credit and use all six: Content, Double, Guide, Meet, Pump, Suit.

Content I was without it
In fact, I could nearly fit
into my new double breasted suit.

But no, you had to guide me to where that chocolate meets the top of that luscious glazed air baked donut, shop.

The one that pumps air into their
donuts, making them light and
fluffy and sweet and oh so good.

Foul thing you are, you heavenly
warmed, melted chocolate
running down the glazed donut sides.

Calling to me in my waking hours,
beckoning me in the night to eat,
eat, even as that blasted insulin needle
sticks!

By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

One-Liner Wednesday –
April 20, 2022 Hosted by Linda G. Hill
If you would like to participate in this prompt, feel free to use the “One-Liner Wednesday”
title in your post then you can ping back there to help your blog get more exposure.

Remember never to throw stones, they most likely will get thrown back at you and with better aim!
Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

Sunday’s prompt word for Six Sentence Stories hosted by GirlieOnTheEdge and the Prompt Word is Tree.

Pointing in wonder at the huge thing made of fiberglass, fabric and optical lights behind the thick glass in the museum display, the youngest boy asked his dad what it was.

The dad looked up and could not believe how tall it was or that something living could ever get so big.

Amazed, he turned to his own dad, the youngest boys Grandpa and asked if he knew what the thing was that had captured the rapt attention of all of them.

Their grandpa strained to lift his head, his arthritic neck complaining so loudly, they all heard the ominous popping of his joints as he looked up and up higher and higher.

When his eyes finally reached the top, a small tear formed in his hazy eye when he told them it had been nearly a hundred years since he had seen one.

His eyes grew misty as he remembered and told them a story with love and longing how these used to grow by the thousands, created forests and woods and homes for all the wild creatures of the earth and he said with subdued reverence, that’s a replication of a tree my loves, extinct so long ago I’m sad to say and all the children echoed his word with innocent adulation, tree.

By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

In response to Tuesday Ragtag Daily Prompt is soft. By drkottaway from ragtagcommunity at WordPress.com

___________________________________________

The first little angel out of the gate, bounced on the biggest fluffiest cloud he could find. He was sure his cloud was the softest and fluffiest one ever.

The second little angel did a swan dove into her fluffy cloud. She exclaimed that hers was softest because she sank down just a tad.

The third and forth little angels, twins you know, bounced so hard they bounced over onto the first little angels cloud where they played merrily and loud! Theirs was certainly not the softest cloud.

The fifth little angel was timid and sweet. He was so tiny he even had tiny feet. He could not bounce alone because his legs weren’t full grown, but a sweeter little angel you’d never meet.

So glowing grown-up Angel, held him over the most softest cloud, holding the little boys tiny body in the palm of his glowing hand. Said he not to be afraid, because soon he would land into the very loving arms of a mom and a dad.

By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

I am Mother Earth
birthplace of all living
and non-living things upon me

Be it animal, plant, water, dirt or sky
it is I who hold the key
to their creation or extinction

Those that are gentle upon my skin
may live in peace and prosperity
such as the lovely butterflies

Those that rend my skin
pollute my rivers and seas
will not see my gentler side

But the rising tides of my anger
and the swell of hot magma
from my very being and my core

It is I who rules this land of mine
all these millennium and I who will stay here long after you are gone

By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

In response to De Jackson, aka whimsygizmo, host for dVerse Quadrille Monday. Prompt word CHALK used within a 44 word poem.

She stepped over the threshold
hesitant
Hanging in mid-air before her
a chalkboard
Her life’s history written in white chalk on the chalkboard
Detailed year by year and day by day minute by minute
Were those seconds delineated next to every single minute?

By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

The air crisp for a mid-April morn
Yet by noon-time
Flower petals are dry and brittle

Beneath the old Bald Cypress tree
lay two special eggs
hidden each Easter Day

Though both are grown
No longer at home
I hid these two precious eggs

Knowing one day
You’ll both come home to find
the precious gifts I harbor inside

By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

Response to a prompt provided by Linda G. Hill for The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS April 16, 2022
The prompt words: nose/noes/knows

My little girl
has two little feet
as cute as they can be

On those feet
are ten little toes
pretty little digits all

Alas my little girl
grew to be a big girl
she’s over six feet tall

Her pretty little feet
now pretty big feet
did sport ten stinky big toes

When I asked her one day
spying her shoes where they lay
Say what is that smell?

My big little girl denied
straight-faced with a whirl
she had not even a clue

But a mother’s nose knows
when her little girls toes
do stink up a room for sure

No matter how those ten toes
denied with adamant noes
it was not their foul aromatic smell

A mother does know
in fact she will always know
the scent of ten stinky toes

There’s nothing quite like it
no man-made sniffer that can rival a mother’s whose nose knows noes