A Time to Go…#68

Twenty-one days since I posted on “The Last Chapter”, so much has happened during those three weeks.  First my body decided to act up, It appears that the heart valve is beginning to harden, the heart is a time bomb, a guessing game, a when will it need repair game.  This has slowed my activity least 50%, which irritates me.  My activity calls for rest from everything.  This really gets in the way of what I want to do.  The most horrible situation was the death of my nephew and his mother came first over all of my issues.  The process of publishing a collection of poems has begun, and I believe the dust has settled on my life and I will try to get back into a routine of writing.  The poem “A Time to Go” created itself, although I am far from her problems, one visit to a nursing facility for the elderly will certainly create such a poem.  I am back for now; I hope to return to posting often.  Thanks to all of you for your patients.  

A Time to Go

The old woman sit in a chair in the get-together room of the elderly housing that her children have placed her.  She has lived alone for the past forty years, now her freedom has been ripped away; all that she owns sits in a storage area of the local buy and sell shop.

Her knarred and deformed hands ache.  She has nothing more to do but contemplate the mystery that was once her life. No one really knows her; not even her children.  She looked upon the flesh of her being, time had taken its toll; she shut her eyes, it is time to go. 

©2019.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

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Broken…#67

Losses in life leave people broken,

Ones spirit may never mend; a sense of

Betrayal will unquestionably never end.

Does one never learn when they are clearly?

Shown that they are not wanted; is there a

Reason to hope, reason to survive.

Does one give up?  Lie down… die.

Put life into perspective, of your soul be

Protective; learn to live within your own glory

Write yourself a new story.

©2019.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

Juncture of the River…#66

Memories are like rivers flowing through

The landscapes of our minds, liquid

Thoughts waiting for the right moment to

Trickle into tiny brooks and flow back in our

Sight.  One by one, we pluck them from the

Pools of recollection that form at rivers edge.

Each juncture, a story finds life and reveals

The lost memory to us, fresh and sometimes

Changing as some things forgotten returns.

The colors may become more vivid and the

Happiness or sadness, more or less intense.

Tales of yesteryear pass through our minds,

Hearts and souls keeping our past alive,

Renewing our hopes, reminding us of our

Forgotten dreams.  Renewing our sense of

Being a part of something great and lasting.

Then there is silence, the rushing waters of

Memories are stilled, the sun rises and sets

As days go by, some more quickly than others.

We turn down a road; look up at the sky,

Watch the landscape change, become

Recognizable, our hearts leap, our souls have

A smile and we are once again gliding down

The river of our memories into the wonders

Of our always conscience minds.

©2019.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

Seasons…#65

Making yourself live with no contact with

Others, you are doomed.  Like the flowers of

Summer without human contact, the soul

May cease to bloom.

Time and stillness may be an important need

To reject sharing life with others, may be the

Greatest form of greed.  Purpose has its seasons,

Life follows a well-planned path; your journey has

A reason.

Clearing the mind and restoring the spirit will

smooth any rutted road; there is a plan of how

your life should unfold.  You may be on the right

Path today; the journey may seem rough, the

Essence and energy of your spirit will find the true

Way.

Gratefulness, awareness and God’s grace is woven

Within the fabric of your being for a reason. Devote

Today to discovering your true, self create your own

Season.

©2019.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree


Doubtful Heart…#64

The world stops, time stands still, the

Universe becomes a vacuum, the heart

Pounds.  Life is unkind; memories fill

Emptiness, emotions surface into an

Unyielding mind.

The search for happiness is a story untold,

Bearable by barricading heart and soul.

Seek a reason to unlock loves door, sealed

Shut so many years before.

Why does love come so easily to have people?

Toss it away, for some it never comes to stay.

The mind tells the one left behind that they will

Survive, love will come and love will thrive.

The heart behind the wall is always trying to

Escape; waiting to be found.  The world stopped,

Time stood still, the universe becomes a vacuum

And, the heart begins to pound.

Yet, if you can remember only one unforgettable

Time, sometimes love has no reason or rhyme.  The

Clouds part, familiar stirring begins; you tell yourself

To be patient doubtful heart.

©2019.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

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What the Voices took from Me…#63

Charlotte Jean Murphree July 13, 1958-July 21, 2010

You left the world to early, free from a life that

Left you filled with doubt.  You lived the lives of

Many, the voices, always hoping just to be one,

You.

I now wait for that spark from heaven, I willed

You not to go, God did not agree.  Was your life

Fulfilled in such a short time, will I ever know?

You had beginnings, disappointments, new starts,

You worried about tomorrow, unable to feel

Happiness in what you accomplished today.

I suffer your being gone, sadness wretches my days,

The glow died there was no hope.  It seems like one

Long unhappy dream.

Roaming within my mind, I walk the fields of your

Life.  A time of clouded joy, then time was blown

Away.

Born in innocence, fresh, life clear, before the voices

Took over, bringing fear.  I could not help you in your

Solitude while you nursed your unconquerable fears.

As the moonlight pales, I yearn for lost years, before

The mental strife.  Before the voices took over your life.

It was after sunset that you died, a void that cannot

Be filled, you will never grow old.  I miss your smiles,

Your red tresses flowing down your back, your light will

Always shine; your radiance will never fade.

Sleep my child in eternal rest…

© elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

Lost Little Girl…#62

Lost Little Girl

I do not know if you are alive or dead.

I see your face your voice never

Forgotten.

The sun does not rise in the morning, nor

Fade into the west without a thought of you.

I mourn, nights are sleepless and morning

Eyes fill with fire.

No one more cherished, more loved, my

Heart bears scars of torture.  Where are you

My lost little girl?

©elizabethannjohnsonmurphree