I have enough memories from the past
to last me for the rest of my life. My
benevolent memory will not bury them
from which they were born.
A small country church, a chorus of
crows; the splashing sounds of the
brook running through the Birch trees.
The wind caressing the colossal row
of Oaks in the field.
Death road away from the weathered
house of worship, followed by black
feathered angels. No longer will the
water beneath the Birch cool, nor will
the wind surrounding the Oaks embrace
The rocker on the porch is stilled, no hand
waves goodbye. In a cobwebbed corner of
the room, tattered sun struck curtains dance
in the nearby mirror. Childhood is dead.
©2013®annjohnsonmurphree.echoingimagesfromthesoul
Published in Kindle eBooks and paperback at Amazon.com:
Echoing Images from the Soul
Beyond the Voices
Reflections of Poetry
Sachets of Poetry on Adoration, Anger, Asylums and Aspirations
Honeysuckle Memories
My Journey into Art
The school dance was like a garden
full of scented wallflowers, in the
distance the record player grinded
out hollow music.
Some stirrings could be found on the
smooth gym floor, the non-stirrers
glazed over eyes looked as if they
wanted to cry.
Would the spell be broken, or would
the scented wall fall asleep, or would
they at last dart for the levered doors
returning to their homes and live like
caged birds.
Then rose the coldest fear of all, silent
as if blind and dumb the feet would not
move though I wanted to run.
Gently a strong young hand pulled me to
the floor…yes, yes, yes, I was a wallflower
no more!
©2014.annjohnsonmurphree
As humans we are like the Black Birds
collected in a globe of pecking gloom,
an awakening before the coming of death;
wise souls searching for a revelation for
an exit.
We are a race that battles, a race of
warring souls unsatisfied until the end,
living in unrest under the breath of Heaven,
always gathering our possessions close to
us before our journey ends.
Banded in a world all the while as the Eye
of God knows who will be saved and who will
be destroyed, collectively, selectively
crushing enemies.
Reaching out into the night, silently watching
the armies, watching man’s destiny, destruction,
listen people and you can hear… the breath going
out of the world!
©2014.annjohnsonmurphree
Like the Phoenix, I have lived long,
reinvented and rejuvenated from life
experiences, reborn in spirit, I ask; where
do I belong. I stand alone, lived things
that too many are unknown. Happiness
never found, worthless are my desires,
quiet kindling of the fires, burned by the
flame, born, dying, they are the same. I
want to believe that the angels will be
there and in their arms I will ascend, I want
to believe that time will live beyond the end.
©2014.annjohnsonmurphree
Books at Amazon.com
A quivering glow from the
moon filtered through the
trees falling upon the garden.
The laughter of children burst
from within a cottage mingling
with the fragrance of the night.
Under a diamond sky on a gentle
wind, I watched the shadowed
night bird fly. The stillness and
muted light lasted for what seem
like an eternity, enclosed me in an
eternal sleep; finally setting me free.
©2014.exiting.annjohnsonmurphree
What lies beyond the wooded valleys
and mountains, the oceans, moon,
sun; will it all one-day fade into time
without end; eternity. Will the spirit
move with nimbleness and with fantasy;
will time without end be ecstasy. Will
everything be pure and divine, will love
replace the hate that lives today in earths
polluted space.
Will pain and fatigue no longer exist; will
only tranquil and exciting wonder live
within Heaven’s glorious mist. Like the
Morning Doves, will all have wings to come
and go unafraid of flight; to enjoy a mystical
life; one love, one language, one understanding
for all, is this what Heaven will bring?
©2014.annjohnsonmurphree
What lies beyond the
wooded valleys and
mountains, the oceans,
moon, sun; will it all
one-day fade into time
without end; eternity.
Will the spirit move with
nimbleness and with
fantasy; will time without
end be ecstasy.
Will everything be pure and
divine, will love replace the
hate that lives today in earths
polluted space.
Will pain and fatigue no longer
exist; will only tranquil and
exciting wonders live within
Heaven’s glorious mist.
Like the Morning Doves, will all
have wings to come and go
unafraid of flight; to enjoy a mystical
life; one love, one language, one
understanding for all, is this what
Heaven will bring?
©2014.understandingheaven.annjohnsonmurphree