anne-p-murray-1Whisper

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MARIE LAVEAU ~ THE VOODOO QUEEN FROM NEW ORLEANSHe was casually walking one evening in a bustling place called New Orleans in the year of 1845. Nonchalantly strolling down Bourbon Street, a street lined with beautiful homes; graceful verandas; elegant parlors, and... Marie Laveau. / His name was Moine Baptiste. He was a black, French Creole. A man who lived for his music, Quadroon ***** the blues, jazz, and places where he and Charlie would play their rip-roarin' music in the place called "The Big Easy". / Charlie the sax, was Baptiste’s long, time friend, since he first started playing the 'sax' at the young age of eight.

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Song Of The ****** And Their Ship Called Mary RoseMary Rose, the mighty sailing sea vessel glided majestically across the waves / She had robustly and bravely sailed the briny waves for many a night and day / With the ocean's heaving gusting squalls blowing off proud stern and mast

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Botticelli Dreams of Sweet Purple Calicoo ~ And YouYour image appears through a purple-hued haze of silence… / weaving its whispered dreamy spell, while you re-connect the strings of my sleeping heart / You go about ********** my soul as I watch your image drift in my celibate reality

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My Tree Of LifeEver since I was a little girl, I yearned to be good at something, anything, but I never quite knew how to go about it. I was never shown by my parents that I was worthwhile. / There is something I need to share, I was alive and that is about all that there is to say about it. At least that's something huh? I guess one could say with a weakened voice, 'perhaps it was better than nothing'?? / I sit here in my writing room and I begin to write on this piece of paper (my computer is my paper now) something seems to be in need of writing, my thoughts are circling within me. I want to write them all down.

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The Gypsy Dance Of LifeLast night I watched in silence / At the end of the road in forest deep / I hid amongst the trees watching in awe

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DEVIL'S TEARDROP ~ A FALLEN ANGEL'S STAINI wonder… / Wherever this nebulous varmint is / Here, there, everywhere

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The Deadly, Fatal Kiss Of The Spider WomanAfter she drank his bitter wine of selfish, pathetic love / She slyly sang him her haunted chant / "The laughs on you", she crooned in her soft malicious tune

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RACHEL'S REVENGE ~ RACHEL'S RISINGPART 1 / “Tis’ well”, she mocks with words of bitter scorn / “For avenged I shall rightfully be…

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Portrait In Indigo -She Dreamed Of IcarusShe seemed to be like a delicate portrait / which had fallen from its gilded frame / Abandoned, lying face down on the cold winter floor

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DANCING ON THE EDGE OF A PINShe was a tiny, angel of woman, / mindlessly moving in a chemical haze / Her heart barricaded tormented

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