Last Photo for June 2022 hosted by bushboy

Last Photo for June 2022 hosted by bushboy

By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

In response to Crimson’s Creative Challenge #190
He ran. He ran so hard and so long, he felt his heart pounding within his parched tongue. Sweat dripped from his forehead. Dark brows drew together in consternation.
The dogs were not far behind. A fence cross-crossed then blocked the way, but not for him. He figured he could fit through the slats easily, and did so.
He was so close to freedom, he could smell it in the air. He crawled through the fence, not noticing the no entry sign. He could not read, it was forbidden.
He dove into the drying cornstalks, tripping but not falling before he returned to his full out run. Minutes later, the posse led by the snarling dogs, stopped at the no entry sign.
Someone asked, “Do we go in boss?”
“Nah,” the heavy-set white man said through a half-smile, “he’ll wish he had let us catch him soon!”
By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

Brevity’s
the length a term of office
should be in Supreme Court
By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

They legalize guns
To form their own militia
To take away our rights
By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

To laugh is wondrous
Making others laugh is satisfying
To make him laugh – heavenly
By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

Use the first words of the poem from Kunjal called ‘Rain,’ which have to appear at the end of each line with no more than sixteen lines.
“His first rain, from a little scrawny window, droplets pattering and dew forming,”

The thunderstorm raged around his
parasol, yet not a single first
touch of wet frigid rain
fell on his umbrella received from
someone extraordinarily special if a
tad timid in his bearing and a little
self-conscious about his scrawny
body, which is a groovy window
to the gents soul. Unseen droplets
flow from the umbrella pattering
away from his feet, his arms and
his entire body, pools of dew
from his walk become rivers forming
By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris





Summer Warmth
By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

Monday Poetry Prompt: SUMMER
Hosted by: Bartholomew Barker @ Living Poetry
Heat warms the chilled ground
spreading life awakening messages
to seeds laying dormant in the cold
Tiny sprouts leap forth shaking fragile heads of dirt and debris drinking in the liquid amber light
Trees long asleep in anticipation
of Spring’s sweet gentle nudge
unfurl leaves at Summer’s shove
Sunflower’s bursting in brilliant yellow match the analogous rays
of Summer’s resplendent sun
Worms begin to wiggle happily
deep inside ground frozen
by Winter’s arduous cold
Bees buzz, flies fly, gnats
do what gnats do to survive
living to bite another day
Reptilian creatures stretch
languidly soaking up old
Sol’s heat into disused muscles
Gardens bloom scents laden
with Mother Natures gift
of renewed color and magnificent life
By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris


Spinnaker sails hoisted picturesquely
to take advantage of their fullness
hoping to catch the heavy air
Two boats, now three race hard
race fast determined to be the first
to make the marker buoy
Red sail matches white sail running
neck and neck as they ride the sea
Blue sail coming up quick behind
By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris
(99 words)


Grandfather say,
When you stack
seven stone perfectly,
you have reached
perfection in your life.
Now I teach my grandson
same life lesson.
I say to my grandson,
You see these seven stones
are all the same but each stone
is different in shape, form
color, texture and smell.
I watched him hold one of
the smaller stones to his nose.
My grandson wrinkled his nose
he sneezed quite indelicately
three times in a row, then lifted
another stone and another, having
sneezed only after sniffing
the smaller first stone the first time.
I tell my grandson to remember.