Dear Followers,
Until after the upcoming holiday “Thanksgiving”, this will be my last entry. A sabbatical of sorts to rest and regroup for a couple of weeks, thank you for your support, I do look forward to continuing following all of you each day until I return with new material for my blog; Happy Thanksgiving wishes to you, as you enjoy the day with family and friends.
Ann Johnson-Murphree
One cannot live one’s life
totally for others, their greed,
their discontent will never end,
yet the takers do not return
love and caring; they only know
how to receive.
One must disappear and survive!
©2013.annjohnsonmurphree
The fall wind has swept the
leaves from the yard it is still
warm as the sun sets; evening
twines its shadows among the
gravestones, hand in hand men,
women and children are silent
in the coming twilight.
Their breath a vapor in the departing
day, the pines sway, the evening is
taking on a mystery of its own; the
winds still and each gentle soul begins
to pass the broken bread.
Clouds gather, the hues of the season
spread across the landscape, the church
tower like a shrine points toward the
Heavens; supper in the churchyard
ends.
Oak, pine and wood shavings spring to
life as pyramids of fire leap toward the
Heavens; a slow melancholy hum flows
throughout those gathered and the night
air is filled with the spirit of the moment,
”Oh that circle want be broken…” rises to
meet the stars.
Childhood memories revisited, a little
white church, sweet secrets beneath the
tablecloths, children playing, old folks
praying, hope grew in the hearts of the
people; and in the hands of God, they
left their heavy loads.
©2013.annjohnsonmurphree
A lost Soul drifts through life
following a path to anywhere
as the sun reflects off the earth,
and winds quiver in the face of
Heaven’s dewdrops.
A plum night springs to life in the
eastern sky, the ocean shines black
with frothy ashen waves, and the
moon bathes the earth as it waits
for morning.
Grief lingers in the shadows of
abandoned twilight; the sun rises
and once again, the wind quivers
in the face of Heaven’s dewdrops.
©2013.annjohnsonmurphree
Will truth rise from the sands
of time, greed, lies, war, killings,
the way of humankind, demands,
humanity never satisfied; has
freedom died.
Hatred unleashed by wagging
tongues, the printed word now
symbols of distrust, a festering
world filled with lies; has
freedom died.
Unfit air to breathe, cannot trust
what we read, proof that there is
no truth from cold official words,
no one to come to the peoples
aid, everyone’s afraid; has freedom
died.
Where has hope gone, countless
hunger, lost jobs and homes,
living in fear, will truth rise from
the sands of time; has freedom
died…“Please God hear our cries“.
©2013.annjohnsonmurphree
ann johnson-murphree 