Thank you Allison Grayhurst…

allison grayhurst

Allison
Grayhurst

I want to dedicate this post to Allison Grayhurst, this prolific poet has recently provided her followers and the general public who visits her website, nine… free eBooks (Kindle) of poetry.  I want to use this post to thank her for her generosity.

These books are:

Book 1: Journey of the Awakening
Book 2: The Longing to Be
Book 3: Death and Other Possibilities
Book 4: Outliving the Inevitable
Book 5: Into My Mortal
Book 6: Red thread – Black Thread
Book 7: The Many Lights of Eden
Book 8: Pushing Through The Jelly Fire
Book 9: The River is Blind

Allison has had over 275 poems published in more than 160 literary magazines in Canada, the U.S., United Kingdom, India and Australia. Her book, Somewhere Falling was published in 1995 by Beach Holme Publishers, a Porcepic Book. Since then she has published ten other books of poetry and four collections with Edge Unlimited Publishing. Allison’s recent chapbook was published by above/ground press, December 2012.  She is also a sculptress.

Please check out all of Allison’s wonderful, mystical, exciting work, follow her website, purchase her work at Amazon.com.

http://allisongrayhurst.com/

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

 

Thank you again Allison for continuing to give your fans, followers and the public a reason to read and keep poetry alive.     Ann Johnson-Murphree

 

Tranquility…

A flame that burns

within the soul, like

flickering shadows

below the clouds,

spirits runs wild into

the ravine.

Mossy ledges dark

and profound while

through the quiet

valley peaceful

wanderings crept;

reflecting upon

dreams while the

sun slept, up in the

heavens the moon

wept.

Mysterious waters

beneath the falls,

bottomless pool

with no end rushes

downward on an

invisible course, a

crevice gives way to

a wild babbling stream;

emerald leaves canopy

the forest floor, a place

where lovers’ hearts can

soar.

Silver skin and dewy eyes,

drink in descending curves

and unimaginable forms;

the sphere, the abyss of

where life is born.

Beneath the pallid stars

and sliding moon is where

hearts bloom, merging their

flames with twilight, yielding

into one mind; ecstasy

plummets into serenity.

 

©2013.annjohnsonmurphree

Reflections of the Season…

I watch, from a shoreline at

autumns pulsating marshes

where motionless in an idle

stream; swam a Swan with

graceful black wings.

A Red-Tail Hawk circled; flying

high over Oak and Popular

trees, then a song sweeter

than any I have ever heard

came floating from among

the reeds.

Beautiful birds a long voyage

ahead for some; their winter

home in southern lands until

their Spirit says that it is Spring,

no need to linger long as the

season to come will be

relentlessly.

The day warm and sunny, Gods

paintbrush had provided a

Heavenly scene, winter silently

waits, a season that I love; but I

push forward in my mind visions

of spring.

 

 

©2013.annjohnsonmurphree

Illusions of Reality…

Shrouded in white, voice

shadowed with mystery,

words played upon senses

revealing the mystery and

majesty of man.

A hint of heaven inhabited

the darkness; a spirit of love

lined the path to hopefulness,

to the soul.

Limbs and breath intertwined,

lost in the arch of paradise

depths, exploring delightful

realms, with a desire of never-

ending ecstasy.

A red morning dawned, a furnace

burned secretly, separation from

the dream brings unhappiness,

tears flow, a cold steam of regret

among the reeds of reality.

 

 

©2013.annjohnsonmurphree

Walking the Valley of Death…

Blackness surges toward

the secret that lay ahead,

rugged, dark,  filled with

fire and poison, crystal

shrines evidence of

a path

ascending

descending

toward judgment.

Fortification, crowned with

sapphire heavens that

gracefully float toward a

path of great ascension or

deep dissension, granite

demons watch throughout

the long burning day, night

brought speechless shapes

under the moon.

Countless colored hues

infused with the winds, a

strange symphony, a cry in

the blackness that veiled

over ebbing life, then a cold

pallid light surrounded by

the crimson bellows of hell.

You have arrived”.

 

 

©2013.annjohnsonmurphree

Breathing Life…

Obstinate lone ghost,

messenger during long

silent hours of the night,

in stillness it brings hope,

tears; breathless kisses.

Like an incommunicable

dream, evening phantasm

suspended, unheard

murmurs in the air, gone

from the untimely tomb;

moldering bones wasting

in the wilderness beneath

the earth.

Weeping in everlasting

sleep, singing passionate

notes of love, fate, a vision

locked away thirsting for lips,

lovely, sacred; now alienated

lured to the living daring to

breathe in the secrets of being;

searching for life.

 

 

©2013.annjohnsonmurphree

 

EBooks on sale at Amazon.com:

http://www.amazon.com/Ann-Johnson-Murphree/e/B00CGBLQZO/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_2?qid=1375763518&sr=8-2

 

Stop the Madness…

Mother Earth, Oceans,

Lakes, Rivers, Air, in unity

with my soul; goodness,

wickedness the choices

we make gives us warmth

of spirit or a life frightening

and cold.

Morning, noon and sunset a

tingling of a new season in the

air, sighs of contentment,

burning wood; gathering of

boughs with the mist clinging to

your face like a lovers kiss.

Ah, this world is wonderful from

shadows to sunlit heights; we can

give or take, make or break fellow

human beings; give hope or

disintegrate with sadness or

delight.

We can gaze upon a world of deep

mysteries’ with love and caring in

our heart; we can impose death,

downfall, bring friend and foe to

their knees; we can destroy, rip

this world apart.

I chose to inspire the desperate,

remove their dark hope, bring

light; leave gentleness behind as

I walk into the night, wipe away

the tears of children, bring hope

to those in despair…I believe it is

time to stop this madness and

show each other that we care.

 

©2013.annjohnsonmurphree

 

EBooks on sale at Amazon.com:

http://www.amazon.com/Ann-Johnson-Murphree/e/B00CGBLQZO/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_2?qid=1375763518&sr=8-2

Please check out my EBooks on Amazon.com…

Thank you for your support of the blog and in the purchase of my eBooks at Amazon.com.  I hope you will continue to visit Amazon.com below are direct links to each book.  The first in a series of short stories will be ready for publication by Thanksgiving 2013.    AJM

ECHOING IMAGES FROM THE SOUL

Echoing Images from the Soul, a collection born over a period of two years, 2019 to 2012, from the experiences of loss, depression and doubt .

http://www.amazon.com/Echoing-Images-Soul-ebook/dp/B00CCG2WVK/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1375189368&sr=8-1&keywords=ann+johnson-murphree

HONEYSUCKLE MEMORIES

Honeysuckle Memories, these poems are created from experience or stories throughout my life, the collection put together in 2012.

http://www.amazon.com/Honeysuckle-Memories-ebook/dp/B00CG61816/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&qid=1375189368&sr=8-4&keywords=ann+johnson-murphree

Beyond the Voices

Beyond the Voices, a new collection of mixed styles and voices during 2012 and 2013. 

http://www.amazon.com/Beyond-the-Voices-ebook/dp/B00D3KB8E6/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1375189368&sr=8-3&keywords=ann+johnson-murphree

journey into art

The paintings in My Journey into Art begin in 2010 with the loss of two of my children, two days apart…none perfect or master pieces, they were a source of therapy during the first year.  Some took days, others weeks as the depression dominated my existence.

http://www.amazon.com/My-Journey-into-Art-ebook/dp/B00CQR6M5C/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1375189368&sr=8-2&keywords=ann+johnson-murphree

Thank you again for your support

Ann Johnson-Murphree

Questions…

I ask, when one passes away

is there any doubt as to where

the soul goes would your answer

be “No”.  Is it only God who hears

that last breath, has he written

down at our birth the day of our

death.

When we no longer move, can no

longer show joy, are the Angels

sad or do they make a joyful noise.

Do the Heaven’s sing, I have

questions and I wonder about such

things?

Does death really take away all fears,

will we be happy never shedding

another tear.  Will we all become Angels

who can return at anytime to visit family

and friends; or will death be a void

without end?

Do sinners go to Heaven too; will they

walk the streets of gold just like me and

you?  Will, all souls become innocent once

again; will they know a rebirth, returning

to live another life right back here on

earth?

Will we have lives even though the body

is gone, will we live in houses, have

adventures, and will each of us have a

home?  Will there be rivers and lakes,

warm days and cool nights, is this all

possible; after death are we truly all

right?

Is there a Heaven, does life continue

but in a better way, if this is true, why

is death everyone’s worse fear?  If

Heaven is what we are told, why do we

not want to hurry up and go, be happy

to free our souls?

On this my day of sadness, I do not

mean for my questions to offend, or

tread upon anyone beliefs.   I just

want my broken heart to mend, I want

to believe that those I love will be

waiting for me when I die, and I do not

want death to be the end!

I do not know if all that we are told, is

truth or a lie, if it is, I guess I would be

questioning “Why”.  Maybe start with

treating everyone as if it is true, be as

good a person as you can be, and then

we will just have to wait and see.

Try being good to everyone even those

who treat you bad, because if it is all true;

and you are standing before God whether

you want to believe it or not, at that

moment you are going to be glad.

 

 

©2013.annjohnsonmurphree

 

EBooks on sale at Amazon.com:

http://www.amazon.com/Ann-Johnson-Murphree/e/B00CGBLQZO/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_2?qid=1375763518&sr=8-2

Orbs of Sorrow…

Tears, fruits of grief

with each beat of my

heart they grow; out of

loving eyes they flow.

They do not baptize me;

they do not set my lonely

soul free.  They do not melt

my world of pain; the salty

spheres only purpose is change.

They cannot, be dried by the

winds calm breath; they flow

from a powerful river called

death.

 

©2013.annjohnsonmurphree

 

EBooks on sale at Amazon.com:

http://www.amazon.com/Ann-Johnson-Murphree/e/B00CGBLQZO/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_2?qid=1375763518&sr=8-2