Realm of Peace…

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Once again the New Year speeds by and one week of winter weather has our town wrapped in a cluster of snow and cold where going outside is not a thrill.  The Holidays over, many having to return to work, the downside of the season grips us as well, leaving many with a gloominess that is hard to get rid of…

 

I was thinking about a conversation I overheard during the holidays and from it came the poem below.  I believe that we are the masters of our own universe; that if one has lived allowing others to control their life; then break the bondage and learn to be the master of your own world.  If one had rather let another control their life and the reason is that it removes them from any responsibility; sadly this may cause one to live behind a wall of truth, living a lie.  There is no magic potion to take that will bring back the world of no responsibility, it is clearly dead and at some point everyone has to pay the price that life imposes upon us all, that is to be responsible and find some measure of happiness while there is time.

 

May all of you be blessed in the coming days of this New Year, remembering that you are important and deserve to be happy.

 

Realm of Peace…
Life may be that of a pawn, caring for others and boring toil; moments of memory shows no beauty and grace, and chaos is written in the lines upon their face. Chaos is painful as life rewinds, unfolding, sadly to a different time. As weakness causes one to hide behind the veil of truth where they are miserable, lost, waiting for a magical being, an Angel to bring happiness and wealth into one’s life.
Voices speak, penetrating the unhappiness suffered through time; like waves beating upon the shore and passes quickly, as sand returning to the sea. Between the swirls of time one may ask, “Who I am”; defeat the ache of disappointments and this miserable burden will go away. Who in this anguished world possesses your soul? Look pass the ruse of your own life and rise to carry yourself into a peaceful realm of tomorrow.

 

©2018.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

In the Darkness of Night…

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Dedicated to my Grandmothers, Grandfathers and My Daddy…

 

In the Darkness of Night
I hear the cries of my grandmothers and grandfathers, I feel their fear; I walk with them in my dreams on the Trail of Tears. Their feet bloody as they walked the rutted trail, every scar on their backs another story to tell.
The Grandfathers and their families stood tall, their backs they refused to bend, and the pale strangers herded them like cattle to a far off land, to die in hot barren sand. My people believed the land belonged to no one, given to all by the “Great Mystery”; still they died with broken souls never knowing that their story in time would cover the blood-splattered pages of history.
My people watched as women gave birth and warriors carried the dead, the children went to sleep hungry with the ground as their bed. The day came when these great people were corralled, given musty water and bug-infested cornmeal to eat, in a place with no hope, to the pale man they were bound; a killing field where the blood of my family spilled upon the ground
I hear you my grandmothers and grandfathers, your cries, do not go unheard in the darkness of night; for in my dreams I walk with you, I feel your fear; I wake each morning with the taste of your tears.

 
©elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

https://www.amazon.com/Honeysuckle-Memories-Ann-Johnson-murphree/dp/150029070X/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Asterial-Thoughts-Journey-into-Thought/dp/1540862356/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Rutted-Roads-Collections-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1532909365/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF81

https://www.amazon.com/Journey-into-Art-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500502960/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Sachet-Poetry-Adoration-Aspirations-Asylums/dp/1500483354/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Beyond-Voices-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500426709/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Echoing-Images-Soul-Journey-into/dp/1500366811/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Reflections-Poetry-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500168645/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8 

Dreaming Life is Fine, Fine as Honeydew Wine…

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I walked down the dusty road toward Flint Creek; I sat on the bridge, muddy rushing water twenty feet below the bridge. I was a motherless child, I could not think, I slid with ease off the rough planks into the Creek; I sank.

I broke the muddy water with unrestrained speed, I rose from the dank depths and gasp for air, the second time I emerged I swam to the slippery bank heaved myself onto its clay sides and I cried. The water was cold; I wiped the tears from my eyes, if it had not been for the Angel I would have died.

Yes, there beneath the cold muddy water swam an Angel, she smiled shaking her head; go home she spoke softly in my ear, life is not always fair but you have nothing to fear.

I was at the fork of the road, one road lead home the other up the mountain where the sheer cliffs towered over the land. I stood there, I hollered, I stood there and I cried; I was a motherless child.

 

©2017.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

 

 

https://www.amazon.com/Honeysuckle-Memories-Ann-Johnson-murphree/dp/150029070X/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Asterial-Thoughts-Journey-into-Thought/dp/1540862356/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Rutted-Roads-Collections-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1532909365/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF81

https://www.amazon.com/Journey-into-Art-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500502960/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Sachet-Poetry-Adoration-Aspirations-Asylums/dp/1500483354/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Beyond-Voices-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500426709/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Echoing-Images-Soul-Journey-into/dp/1500366811/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Reflections-Poetry-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500168645/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8 

 

HEADLINES…

womanwriterblogAs I read the morning “Headlines” those listed below are the ones that I was scanning. If you the 2017 headlines be ready to find yourself in a depressed mood with headlines discussing everything from Trump to the killing spree by deranged people.  Nevertheless, there are fewer headlines just a mere 17 years ago in 2000…What has happen to the world in those 17 years? I am certain there were more good headlines than bad. I have a 5-year-old great grandson, what is this world going to be when he reaches 17 years old?
I find myself at an age where I know there has been bad over the span of my life, but never like it has changed now. Occasionally, one may have heard of a civilian being shot with a gun, not dozens of them. I am too old to be afraid, yet I fear for my children and everyone else in this mixed up world.
Whether you are religious or not, let us take time today to say to ourselves stop this madness before it is too late. EA

Headlines: November 2017

NBC analysis: GOP tax plan could save Trump and his family more than $1 billion.
Climate talks close with Trump standing alone.
U.S. towns, cities fear taxpayer revolt if Republicans kill deduction.
Downing North Korean Missiles Is Hard. So the U.S. Is Experimenting.
Defrocked priest charged with 31 counts of sex abuse.
Donald Trump’s Sexual Assault Accusers Demand Justice in the #MeToo Era: ‘We Were Forgotten’.
Two children killed when sheriff’s vehicle hits pedestrians in Los Angeles.
California shooting rampage highlights “ghost guns
Police: ‘Miracle’ more were not shot by rifle-toting man
Boy orphaned by California shooting knew the man who killed his family.
Rancho Tehama gunman targeted wife, neighbor before attacking passersby at random.

 

 

Headlines: November 2000
Elian Gonzalez The young castaway, whose American odyssey became a metaphor for the changing relationship between the United States and Communist Cuba.
USS Cole bombing Slipping through security in a small boat, terrorists carry out a suicide explosives attack on the U.S. Navy destroyer USS Cole in Yemen, killing 17 sailors.
Soaring oil prices U.S. multinational corporations are walloped by rising oil prices that surge to more than $30 a barrel
Firestone recall The government orders Bridgestone/Firestone to recall more than 6.5 million tires.
Ruling to split Microsoft A federal judge orders Microsoft Corp. split in two, declaring the software giant an “untrustworthy” monopoly.
Genetic advance The biotechnology company Celera Genomics and the publicly funded Human Genome Project announce that they each completed draft versions of the human genetic code.
Joyous Y2K The world welcomes the new millennium with South Sea islanders singing Handel’s Hallelujah chorus and Americans sporting Y2K eyewear in New York’s Times Square. Humanity also breathes a little easier as 1999-to-2000 date changes fail to cause any major disruptions of the world’s major computer systems.
Tobacco verdict The tobacco industry suffers a loss in a class-action case as jurors order companies them to pay $144 billion in punitive damages to Florida smokers

The Chickasaw – Part 10

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The Chickasaw – Part 10

 

The war would soon be over, Pap had not returned to Chadwick since he left; he rode into Decatur, Alabama on a sway back mule. His horse of many years was dead; he stole the mule from a sharecropper close to the Tennessee River and rode toward Decatur. The company he scouted for was now somewhere over on the Georgia line.
Pap received no more than a glance as darkness set in; he pulled the old mule into the river holding onto the bridle, he guided the mule between the Railroad Bridge and old bridge linking the North side of the river held by the Yankees and to the South side guarded by the Confederates’. When he reached the other side, he walked into a Yankee camp all eyes and guns were on him.
He would be considered a traitor in the eyes of the Confederates’ and the Northern troops as well. Seeing that he was a scout they allowed him to sit by their fire to dry his clothes and eat; something he had not done in a week.
Pap road across the Tennessee River Bridge into Decatur to gather all the information he could; then road back without any trouble. The stench of the town was terrible; he held a bag filled with cleansing Sage to his nose. He thought of Chadwick and Jane.
This will be the last posting of The Chickasaw; other works will fill the pages for my great supporters.
Story Resources:
Storyteller – Jane Over-Town “Overton” 1848-1954 at the age of 106 her mind was intact, she never forgot anything, It was her body that was ready for death; she lay down for an afternoon nap and woke only to say goodbye to the grandson she raised as she took her last breath, speaking softly to my father.
Grandson – Roy C. Johnson
Granddaughter – Vina Evans-Quinn
Elizabeth Ann Johnson-Murphree Great – Granddaughter

 

BOOKS AVAILABLE ON AMAZON.COM

 

 

https://www.amazon.com/Honeysuckle-Memories-Ann-Johnson-murphree/dp/150029070X/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Asterial-Thoughts-Journey-into-Thought/dp/1540862356/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Rutted-Roads-Collections-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1532909365/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF81

https://www.amazon.com/Journey-into-Art-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500502960/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Sachet-Poetry-Adoration-Aspirations-Asylums/dp/1500483354/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Beyond-Voices-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500426709/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Echoing-Images-Soul-Journey-into/dp/1500366811/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Reflections-Poetry-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500168645/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

 

 

The Chickasaw – Part 9

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Then War came to Chadwick Manor…

The State of Alabama declared that it had seceded from the United States of America on January 11, 1861.  Jane was thirteen-years-old; she had learned many things like gracefulness and proper manners; Sipsee had succeeded in keeping her daughter from the Master, now she had to worry about the soldiers both Union and Southern, neither respected women.  She and her mother were happy when it ended; Jane was seventeen-years-old.   She would only say up to the end of her life that the greed of the white man would be his downfall.  Sipsee and Jane remain in the Chickasaw village until the War ended.

It was there that Jane met Pap, he was an Indian Scout for the South, and Jane just becoming a young woman and no longer referred to as a child was smitten by him.  Sipsee did not care for him as he was twenty years older than Jane was; Sipsee hoped that he would not come back; Jane felt a sadness she could not explain.  Sipsee considered Jane still a child and to Jane he was some sort of God, a Warrior like her father fighting for the South.

Sipsee did not see him as a great Warrior and neither did the other people in the slave quarters; at best he was to laid-back and lazy, he went from family to family in cabins to be fed.  Yet, he never contributed to the quarters, no deer, rabbit, nothing.  He seems to slip in and out, as he pleased.

Pap had his own story; he had been a scout for the Southern Army, it was apparent that the South was falling, hunger, no coats or fires to keep away the cold nights. To have a fire could be deadly.  He had witnessed much during the past four years, it was his job to go ahead and scout out the “Yankee” camps.  There they were tents and fires to keep out the cold nights; he could smell the food being cooked or roasted over the fire and he was always hungry.  He had been issued a rifle but was weary of using it to draw attention; he had no bow and arrows (only a romantic notion by the whites), his silent weapons were his knife and a hatchet.  He was good at catching game but it would not be wise to make a fire inside enemy lines.

It was close to the end of the war, Pap had not returned to Chadwick since he left; he rode into Decatur, Alabama bareback on a sway back mule.  His horse had been shot out from under him in a getaway on his last scouting trip; he stole the mule from a sharecropper close to the Tennessee River and rode toward Decatur.  The company he scouted for was now somewhere over on the Georgia line.

Pap received no more than a glance as darkness set in; he pulled the old mule into the river holding onto the bridle, he guided the mule between the railroad and old bridge linking the North side of the river held by the Yankees and to the South side guarded by the Confederates’.  When he reached the other side, he walked into a Yankee camp all eyes and guns were on him.

To be continued…

Story Resources:

Storyteller – Jane Over-Town “Overton” 1848-1954 at the age of 106 her mind was intact, she never forgot anything, It was her body that was ready for death; she lay down for an afternoon nap and woke only to say goodbye to the grandson she raised as she took her last breath, speaking softly to my father.

Grandson – Roy C. Johnson

Granddaughter – Vina Evans-Quinn

Elizabeth Ann Johnson-Murphree Great – Granddaughter

BOOKS AT AMAZON.COM BY ELIZABETH ANN JOHNSON-MURPHREE

https://www.amazon.com/Honeysuckle-Memories-Ann-Johnson-murphree/dp/150029070X/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8/

https://www.amazon.com/Asterial-Thoughts-Journey-into-Thought/dp/1540862356/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Rutted-Roads-Collections-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1532909365/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF81

https://www.amazon.com/Journey-into-Art-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500502960/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Sachet-Poetry-Adoration-Aspirations-Asylums/dp/1500483354/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Beyond-Voices-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500426709/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Echoing-Images-Soul-Journey-into/dp/1500366811/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Reflections-Poetry-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500168645/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Chickasaw – Part 5

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The Chickasaw – Part 5

Hawk found a way to cross the Mississippi River into Northern Alabama.  They made their home on the Eastern side of Alabama.  They lived among a few Indians that were not forced to leave.  Hawk knew that if they did not live like the “white man” they would be forced to leave or killed.  Sipsee learned the language and would walk to the nearest settlement to work; they wanted to build a cabin.  Sipsee knew that they must change with the times, Hawk kept to himself and his own dreams.

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In 1848, Sipsee gave birth to a baby girl, the only child she and Hawk would ever have; she call her Jane and never gave her an Indian name.  It was Sipsee’s way of trying to go with the coming change in their lives.  This change did not mean that she would not teach her daughter to old customs just learn to survive.  Both Sipsee and Hawk learn to survive in their own ways.  He in the way of the land and playing the white man’s game to his advantage.

Once when Sipsee ventured into town and the general store’s proprietor ask her what was her name, she told him Sipsee.  He asks for her last name, she said “Over-Town”; they had tribe names, but no last name.  He misunderstood and called her Sipsee Overton.  Sipsee decided when dealing with the white man she would use the name Overton; it stayed that and continues in the descendants today.

 

To be continued…

Resource – Storyteller – Jane Over-Town “Overton” 1848-1954 at the age of 106 her mind was Like a steel trap, she never forgot anything, It was her body that was ready for death; she lay down for an afternoon nap and woke only to say goodbye to the grandson she raised, my father.

Other Resources:

Granddaughter – Vina Evans-Quinn

Resource and Post Writer – Elizabeth Ann Johnson-Murphree Great – granddaughter

BOOKS AT AMAZON.COM BY ELIZABETH ANN JOHNSON-MURPHREE

https://www.amazon.com/Honeysuckle-Memories-Ann-Johnson-murphree/dp/150029070X/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8/

https://www.amazon.com/Asterial-Thoughts-Journey-into-Thought/dp/1540862356/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Rutted-Roads-Collections-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1532909365/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF81

https://www.amazon.com/Journey-into-Art-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500502960/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Sachet-Poetry-Adoration-Aspirations-Asylums/dp/1500483354/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Beyond-Voices-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500426709/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Echoing-Images-Soul-Journey-into/dp/1500366811/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Reflections-Poetry-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500168645/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

 

Days of Pondering…

womanwriterblog

Here we are beginning August…I have many things to recall from this month as all the others.  January marks the death of my father, my daddy the subject of another book series; and brings to mind my mother-in-law and the Smith family, which I have a book outlined waiting in line for others to be finished.  A gift came on a cold January day, my granddaughter Elizabeth was born.

February marks the birth of my oldest son Carl, a wonderful father and husband, towers over all, intelligent, a man who can take control when necessary, he and Cindy have given me three wonderful grandchildren.  February is also the month that my daughter Terri was born coming into a world with fiery lungs that has only grown throughout the years; her words are quick and sharp, and sometimes kind.

March, April and May have been lost in the foggy paths we all have taken.  June brought the baby of the family Chuck, a quiet, intelligent man; loves life and his wife Karen; he is a serious writer and educator.  July, a month of remembrance, the loss of my daughter, the pain never goes away; the scars of her death are prominent on my mind and soul.

This month August, I remember my only sibling, my sister Billie passed away.  September is the month I lost my mother, one that I loved and the one who could never love me back, a painful month when I  truly felt like an orphan.  The other months October, November and December will come and go like a thief in the night; giving us time to reflect again and start another year.

This sounds more like and end of year post, but I sat on my patio alone accept Mason my four legged furry adopted son…and I had to work my way out of the “mood” that I was in…and get back to my latest project a series “The Generations – Secrets and Lies”.

I also thought of all of you, my followers and how lucky I am to have such wonderful support; my heartfelt thanks to all of you.  I wish for you love and happiness.  EAJM

 

At Amazon.com and Barnes & Noble.com

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https://www.amazon.com/Flying-Broken-Wings-Charlotte-Murphree/dp/1547051329/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1501732166&sr=1-1&keywords=ann+johnson-murphree

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/flying-with-broken-wings-elizabeth-ann-johnson-murphree/1126510816?ean=9781547051328

 

 

RIP Sam Shepard…

samA great American Artist 

“There are no words to describe how I feel, we have lost another great one!”

 

 

ELIZABETH ANN JOHNSON-MURPHREE BOOKS AT AMAZON.COM AND BARNES & NOBEL.COM

FLYING WITH BROKEN WINGS

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https://www.amazon.com/Flying-Broken-Wings-Charlotte-Murphree/dp/1547051329/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1499018149&sr=1-1&keywords=ann+johnson-murphree

BEYOND THE VOICES

11th

https://www.amazon.com/Beyond-Voices-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500426709/ref=sr_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1499018788&sr=1-3&keywords=ann+johnson-murphree

HONEYSUCKLE MEMORIES

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https://www.amazon.com/Honeysuckle-Memories-Ann-Johnson-murphree/dp/150029070X/ref=sr_1_5?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1499018932&sr=1-5&keywords=ann+johnson-murphree

REFLECTIONS OF POETRY

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https://www.amazon.com/Reflections-Poetry-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500168645/ref=sr_1_6?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1499018932&sr=1-6&keywords=ann+johnson-murphree

ECHOING IMAGES

66th

https://www.amazon.com/Echoing-Images-Soul-Journey-into/dp/1500366811/ref=sr_1_7?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1499018932&sr=1-7&keywords=ann+johnson-murphree

ASTERIAL THOUGHTS

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https://www.amazon.com/Asterial-Thoughts-Journey-into-Thought/dp/1540862356/ref=sr_1_8?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1499018932&sr=1-8&keywords=ann+johnson-murphree

RUTTED ROADS

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https://www.amazon.com/Rutted-Roads-Collections-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1532909365/ref=sr_1_9?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1499018932&sr=1-9&keywords=ann+johnson-murphree

SACHET OF POETRY

55th

https://www.amazon.com/Sachet-Poetry-Adoration-Aspirations-Asylums/dp/1500483354/ref=sr_1_10?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1499018932&sr=1-10&keywords=ann+johnson-murphree

MY JOURNEY INTO ART

whales

https://www.amazon.com/Journey-into-Art-Johnson-Murphree-2014-07-28/dp/B019NRG4YG/ref=sr_1_14?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1499019157&sr=1-14&keywords=ann+johnson-murphree

 

Thanks for reading and in advance thank you for your comments.  EAJM

 

 Painting below:  Acrylic and Watercolor created December, 2010-The First Christmas without Charlotte…

19.charlotte winter