WADE LANCASTER


WADE LANCASTER

Visit Wade a person with many schools of thought, ideas, styles and taste; his post are enjoyable his check site at:

https://lancasterwade.wordpress.com/

 

Poetry

To this end, my blade soars through the aquarium of my soul. Seeking the kelp of discontent, which must be cut, so that the rocky bottom of love lie in waking, with fertile sand, for the coming seed of my true loves affection. Does this explain my need for her? No. It is like a giant cave of emptiness waiting for the bats of love, to hang by, and beckon me to taste that heavenly food. In heart, my heart beats for only one… That is you, my everything and one true love.

If only you could see
I am like a mimosa tree
My branches you can climb
My leaves will give you shade
When my spring arrives
My flowers you can see
The aroma is only for you
In the night
My leaves close
It is how I hold you within my arms
In this way I exhale
And you receive the oxygen
For it enriches your blood
And your heart becomes happy for it
Dig into my roots
They are dug into the soil of our togetherness
Feel the richness
Smell the earth
Look upward towards the sky
As the light of happiness
Filters through
If only you could see
I am more than just a tree —

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#poetry #quoteofwadelancaster

I looked at a star in the sky. and I knew I could fly to it
You are the apple in my eye.
And I knew you would get me to it.
Upon wings we reach new heights.
Float in the air and breath it.

 

 

 

 

Author: Elizabeth Ann Johnson-Murphree

Artist/Writer of Fiction, Poetry, Prose and Thoughts, Opinions Author Bio Born in Alabama to a Native American (Chickasaw) father and an emotionally absent mother since birth, raised by father, a Native American great-grandmother and an African-American woman whom were all grand storytellers. As early, as four years old, I was roaming the countryside around our home alone or with my father; in the evenings I sat at the feet of these strong-minded individuals listening to the stories of their lives. Summers I lived with my fathers' sister in Birmingham, Alabama; it was she that would help to discover a library, and mingle with my aunt's circle of friends that included local writers, artist, and politicians. A cabin deep within the Black Warrior Forest was also my playground on weekends. My aunt encouraged my imagination by introducing me to journaling, which I filled Big Chief Tablets with stories over the summer. Planted was the desire to write, a seedling waiting to spurt from the warm southern heart of a child. Nonetheless, with adulthood, the desire to write buried itself deep within, the dream wilted but did not die. It laid dormant, gaining experiences. These experiences became short stories and poetry ready to share with anyone who would want to read them. I began painting as a child and later as an adult, and then it lay dormant for years. I write of many life experiences in poetry format; questioning everything from Mother Nature to God...the poetry is raw, sometimes dark and may not be understood by all. Yet, it comes from deep within and reads of truth within my soul. The harshness that shrouded my life would cause me to withdraw from most of the world; it fills the pages of my writing, the heartache, the abuse, and the denial of a mother, all frankly portrayed. Today, I enjoy my children, grand and great grandchildren, my four-legged companion Mason, I live in Southern Wisconsin...far from my southern roots; however, I continue to write and paint almost daily. Below are the books that I have published in paperbacks at Amazon.com, under the name of Ann Johnson-Murphree: Book #1 Echoing Images from the Soul 2012 Book #2 Beyond the Voices 2012 Book #3 Reflections of Poetry 2013 Book #4 Honeysuckle Memories 2013 Book #5 Sachets of Poetry on Adoration, Anger, Asylums and Aspirations 2014 Book #6 My Journey into Art 2014 Book #7 Fragments of Time 2017 Book #8 Rutted Roads 2016 Book #9 Asterial Thoughts 2017 Book #10 Flying with Broken Wings 2017

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