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A Sachet of Poetry Adoration – Anger – Asylums – Aspiration at

sachet cover

The book’s title: 

A Sachet of Poetry

Adoration – Anger – Asylums – Aspiration

These poems characterize the thoughts of innocence sold into a false world of adoration.  Living in silence, God did not keep this innocence from hell, and death would be a long way off and life was between the now and then.   Ahead lay sacrifice, pain and suffering.  Life should be fruitful; the human life produces scenes of public, private distress and anger springs forth with hate and blood.  Mortally led to the mysterious world of knowing the fist is not love, it is the slaughter of innocence.  Innocence institutionalized because of disobedience, failing to comply with and act upon the orders of their controller, the answer asylum.  Reality embedded within the soul of innocence, no future, no meaning to life.  Innocence in truth wants and dreams of death; these are the true aspirations of the abused.  These words are dedicated to all of those innocence humans that will never know happiness, and death lives with them every day as a means of freedom.  This sachet of poems, are small packets of words depicting the thoughts during the lives of such innocents.

A Sachet of Poetry – Adoration – Anger – Asylums – Aspiration is a collection of poems created from a fact-based work of fiction.  An innocent young girl named Rebecca was forced into an asylum by her mother and husband, the poems are created from her thoughts during a time of adoration after finding she might love this evil person; it soon turned into anger.  The poetry changed during this journey into thought depicting her time in the asylum lead to her reflections, her aspirations of seeking death.

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Beyond the End…

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.


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Passion Sings…

Love is an out of control fire

bringing splendor, pain, calm

and surprise, the results of

infinite desire.  Cheating lovers

are talons tearing at the heart,

bringing bewilderment, despair,

more than a soul can bear.

Loves flame smothered brings

darkness to the spirit, the world fills

with discord and strife; only the

winds of time can rekindle loves light.

Love is renewal, the return of spring,

laughter and passion, the voice within


A newly found desire blooms, a bud

opening to the pleasure of the heart

and soul, a new story waiting to be told.

Deserter, traitor, cheater fades from

memory, nothing from the past remains;

trust returns a gift from the Heavens and

love lives again.


©2014.passionsings.annjohsonmurphree…annjohnsonmurphree ebooks

Emerald Heaven…

In the emerald clover field,

love concealed; shapes made

aware, breathing in the

morning air.  Secret love,

clandestine thoughts roam;

times lost forget home; heart

ignores evil, wrong sheds away;

dreams are of only today.  Love

freely given without consideration

there in the clover field under heaven.



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A Place of Adoration…

Inspiration, the design of life,

singing, forgotten in the night,

slivers of daylight.  Visions,

feathery wings swiftly take flight.

Images within the mind, phantom

sounds beneath the breast.  Smiling,

moans floats across plum skies,

impending destiny, beating hearts

rest.  shivering below that which is

divine, sacred bodies, loves shimmering




Poetry and Art –


The Simplicity of Life…

The human race has many possessions; as time has spawn generations of collectors where material gain has become an obsession…


Rickety Ole Man

A hot southern sun hides behind the willows on muddy Flint Creek, cotton pickers sweat falling on parched lips taste like salty brine while they wait for the Ole man to call “quitting time”…

Beyond the Voices

Disappearing into Hell

Growing old, no splendor to the body, luste has disappeared from aging eyes.  Vanished beauty unavoidable, shaded looks from an old lover causes the soul to cry…


Thanksgiving Memories…

Sharp as a diamond was my mother’s tongue, no expression in the face she wore, set frame of mind, her last wish for me a lifetime of foreboding left me in dread; it lives on from her deathbed…

journey into art29. Birth of Cotton9.Landscape #101whales3.ANNA-Mother and Child17.The Wormwood Flower

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