Spring, bright and fresh, birds sing as a cool
morning breeze floats through magnolia trees,
thoughts of long ago day’s surface into the now.
A gracious woman of the South rises from past
memories into the present, ice eyes, cheeks a
natural rose-colored, speaking with the sound
of dripping honey.
She leans toward a honeysuckle vine dreaming of
what was and what will never be, her chained heart
tugs at the sealed door.
A mocking bird sits and sings deep within the lilac
bush, as she dips her fingers slowly in a pebbly brook,
her reality; life passed her by, and the depths of her
sorrow never known.
Nevertheless, in her place of selfishness she never
denied her hate for the child she brought into her
unwanted world, does she deserve the name “mother”.
©2014.annjohnsonmurphree
Books at Amazon.com
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There is a resilient sadness in this verse yet a beauty all the same.
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Thank you so very much, it means so much more coming from you. Ann
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Reblogged this on The WordPress Blogatorium and commented:
Reblogged to the WordPres Blogatorium and inviting everyone to join the group at https://www.facebook.com/groups/thewordpressblogatorium/
Discover new blogs and authors, read blog reviews and more to come.
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Thank you so very much. Ann
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Such a striking contrast of images…Breath taking…
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Thank you Michael that mean so much coming from you. Have a great day. Ann
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Reblogged this on OUR POETRY CORNER.
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Ron, Thank you so very much for the reblog. Ann
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you are very welcome, my pleasure to spread your work and thank YOU for allowing me to do so!
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🙂
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