Books at

Coffee Table Books – 8 X 11


On a Blue Bird Day

It is spring, warm breezes float through magnolia trees.  A gracious woman of the South rises from past memories; her thoughts behind the ice blue eyes. She sits on the bank of a pebbly brook under a Blue Bird sky, the scent of lilac rises from her starched dress.  She dips her fingers slowly into the cool water; she is old and life has passed her by, and the depths of her truth never known.  In her secret place of selfishness her hate for an unwanted child; she stops to ponder her own question; does she deserve the name “Mother”.





#9391…A 100 Word Story



It was July 1915 and Annabelle stared out the window.  Beyond the bars lay the tombstones covered with dead leaves and vine, each inscribes with nothing but a number; the records might have given the names of those beneath the red southern soil.

She knew that there were no tomorrows.  A marriage of happiness ended with a disobedient act against her husband.  It was his right to put her in an asylum for the insane and the disobedient.  Yesterday’s promises were over; the “Consumption” as they called it would soon take her life.  The small 12X12 stone would read “#9391”.



Ann Johnson-Murphree at


June 12 – July 12, 2016

Six Poetry Books Available :

All  – $5.50


Coffee Table Art:  $10.00



Altered Senses


Existence, scene after scene, characteristic of

life’s environment and promises that

reveal nothing, the past descends like rain from

the sky, washing away all dreams. Phantoms of

youth chanting within the soul, paths blocked;

evil has spread across the landscape of a lifetime.

Loneliness limits love and happiness; boundaries

slow down the process of moving into the future

shrouded with abundant solitude from where there

is no escape. Rethink your future!








thBPHSKA15“Life is short, live it. Love is rare, grab it. Anger is bad, dump it. Fear is awful, face it. Memories are sweet, cherish it.”



Click on author’s book page to view poetry and art books at


Love Will Live Again



A southern wind, a promise of spring,

days longer, soon and the robins will

sing.  Rains bring life, snow is gone,

and the warmth is welcomed as the

winter has been so long.


Every creature man or beast can feel

the pull of the moon, trees are budding,

the Narcissus in bloom.  Dreams are

building in both the young and old, a void

needs filling in a misplaced heart; spring

gives birth to loves new start.


For some love never ends, others it never

begins, it flows into the hearts of those

searching the waves of a soft southern

wind.  Loves lost, hearts tossed, tears fall,

we grasps for a chance at happiness despite

the cost.


Walking in the deepest valley or climbing the

tallest hill, once you find love your heart will

battle with your mind, you breath will be stilled.

Your thoughts will be filled with love and brought

to your new love on the wings of a dove.





thBPHSKA15“Life is short, live it. Love is rare, grab it. Anger is bad, dump it. Fear is awful, face it. Memories are sweet, cherish it.”



Click on author’s book page to view poetry and art books at


Benevolent Memories

I have enough memories from the past to last me for the rest of my life. My bountiful 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, a 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 winds surrounding the Oaks embrace flesh.  The rocker on the porch is stilled, no hand waves goodbye. In a cobwebbed corner of the room, the sun shines through a cloudy window, as the image of tattered curtains dance in a nearby mirror. Childhood is dead.







“Our past is the map we followed into the future!” eajm

Life’s Ambiguous Journey…


Life’s Ambiguous Journey…

Birth, polluted air fills new lungs,

Vision blurred, reality in a psychedelic

Arena called life, first panic, crying, then

A false sense of peace.

Breathing, suckling, crawling,

Walking; the essence of existence creates

Fragile times fused in a harsh world of

Happiness and discontent.

These certainties, these realities,

End life before it begins; to live by the law

Of nature, constantly fearful, fighting for

Happiness and trying to conquer discontent.

Can anyone survive the journey?

Through mist of doubts and move forward

Toward the next juncture of existence; in life’s

Ambiguous Journey.


Books can be purchased at:


Standing in a River Dying of Thirst


Standing in a River Dying of Thirst…

Senses frozen in time while the heart

orchestrates a symphony of happiness

and fear creating a painful bliss, life

extends beyond the depths of vision and

the world waits in silence like the aftermath

of a storm.

Unseen forces of the spirit and soul carry

dreams to paradise, beyond cliffs called

doubt, and it is there that one will find the

land where love is born.

Life can be a ship in turbulent waters or a

house built on rock; love survives when two

spirits, their hearts and souls journey through

life hand in hand.

Love is the resonance of faith and devotion

throughout eternity; love may cascades over

rocky streams filled with uncertainties before

flowing into a river of contentment.

Some find it and some do not; there are those

who just stand in the river waiting for that perfect

love to float by… while dying of thirst.


Elizabeth Ann Johnson-Murphree Books can be purchased at

My Journey into Poetry

19.charlotte winter

My creativity in poetry evolved on many levels, all born out of sadness with a loss; a death. Many suffer such perils; however these poems tell my story.  It ranges from lost spirit, to searching for one’s self through writing. Although in poetry form, each poem travels the path of truth.  eajm