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
Music, music, breaking bread,
isolated, beauty dead; fingers
frail cannot hold the glass,
remember the wine and roses
days, live, laugh, love time will
quickly pass.
Heart young, hands soft shading
emerald eyes, always considerate
and wise; long days and nights,
summer heat, hearts together
beat.
Warm eyes faded and dry, memories,
lying in cool green grass, the scent of
blossoms floating to the sky.
Cool ocean sprays, sunlit yellows flay,
misty shores, foam, Gulls high whistling,
sails worn and frayed.
Remembrances, breath upon cool cheeks,
sand swathe bodies; only memories, the
madness of youth, memories are old
people’s follies.
©2014.agedfollies.annjohnsonmurphree
A bronze box dressed in a garland of
magnolias, gloved hands, no longer
moving with grace, pale is the cold
emaciated face, no longer slim, showing
deep folds, no one can see the beauty of
her soul. Profiled by a stain-glassed pane,
the only people there were those who would
gain.
Once flesh and blood that charmed the most
handsome of men with her rosy cheeks finally
became old, feeble and weak. Relatives sat
troubled with bitter sneers, and unread “Will”
drove them to fear, her last thoughts about
them unclear.
Sitting in the front pew her withered old lover
was on everyone’s mind, to her his heart he gave,
stood by her side ever so brave. It was he that
watched the skeleton form, no longer omitting a
beautiful scent; it was he that watched in horror
as her beauty went.
When death appeared at the door, tears he finally
wept, yet the old lover did not sway in the constant
vigil he kept. He lit a candle for hope, his violin
soft and clear filled her room; he fought imminent
doom.
Once irresistible lovers lying face to face, he did
wonder if she were paying for their lifetime of sins.
One last time she opened her fathomless eyes, her
smile gripped his soul, he could not live without
her, he too would die and their story would never
be told.
The relatives that watched as he leaned forward
seemingly in prayer, their hearts filled with fault
and foolishness they did not care. Sate-less was
their greed, serpents that had waited for this long
awaited death, missed the joining of two lover’s
souls when the flame of life left his heart.
He and his Lady would walk together in eternity, the
lovers who were destined to be together from the very
start. Proud lovers that lay side by side, and danced to
the sound of a single violin, together again…husband,
wife, lovers and friends.
©2014.asingleviolin.annjohnsonmurphree
In grief sorrow gathers
memories into clusters
of time; they hideaway
deep within the mind,
spirit and soul pray; yet
the heartache never goes
away.
A black bell tolls upon
silent ears, the soul tries
to protect the human
spirit from fear, this is the
hour of mourning, a mist
of idle breath, and tears
fall upon the brow of
death.
Kneel beneath the heavenly
crown, remembering the
love as the eyes cast down;
loss, pain and tears battle
evil and good throughout
the years, wounds that
cannot heal; demons within
are soon revealed.
Love must dwell in a special
place, life must be lived with
grace; raise the voice to
heavens and sing, think only
of the joys the memories
bring.
Go into the future with a grateful
song; let the tears disappear, rid
life from unwanted fears, because
God lives here.
©2013.annjohnsonmurphree
In the distant sky brooding
clouds roll, like boulders
between our souls, mine
trapped in human form;
yours in heaven gracefully
adorned.
A tear, a prayer, is that your
light flickering from afar, my
eyes are dim I can no longer
cry; still I cannot say good-bye.
I had no power to save you,
weakness lies within me,
bitterness follows me in my
dreams; nothing will ever be
the same, nothing is truly, as
it seems.
©2013.annjohnsonmurphree
Imagine being on the edge
of eternity where hours have
no end, is there day and night,
are the stars close and bright.
Does the moon hang below
Heavens invisible veil; do the
stars hang by silvery threads,
and are the clouds soft like
feathery beds.
Are there beings living on planets
scattered throughout the Universe,
are their lives better or worse; do
they have a God like ours, do they
have greater powers.
Is there actually a Heaven and Hell,
are these places fiction or fact; only
time will tell, in truth one must die…
to find if paradise exist or if it was
all just a lie.
Imagine being without sorrow or pain,
if it is all true, we have nothing to lose
and everything to gain; we can allow
our imagination to wander away; but
remember to live life day-by-day.
©2013.annjohnsonmurphree
Open my beating chest;
listen to the rhythm of
the heart whispering
sorrow in conflict with
a soul that does not
question fate, a soul
that believes in keeping
faith.
Who triumphed – the
Heavenly Host, Fear, or
Pain, as a sweet light
removed from life floated
away to a heavenly
destination, upon a sea of
tears?
Happiness forever removed;
no longer are there happy
hearts, only sadness walks
through the prairie of time.
The Spirit struggles with a
veiled eternity, despair is born;
winged hope hovers, the world
motionless as the flame of life
flickers.
The sun no longer gleams, night
stars dim, days move forward
burdened with images of the past,
a time before that final hour.
©2013.annjohnsonmurphree
There is a bright silence
in the midnight hours,
behind a veiled realm are
spirits, do they hear the
cries of those earthly souls
in pain.
Flowing through my veins
are the memories of a heart
stilled, a beautiful depression
dweller, cold, weak, no thought
of mortality; no divine oracle.
Gone from sight, now a spirit
dweller beyond the curtain of
life, still the love and the
memories inhabit the mind and
hearts of those left behind; “grief
never sleeps”.
©2013.annjohnsonmurphree
ann johnson-murphree 
