Motherless Child…
I grew up in the tranquility of the woods, running free beneath the Oak, Birch and Chestnut trees. The voice of a loving mother was not to be; in my heart, she was very dear to me.
I remembered her voice upon the waves of a summer wind; I pretended that she lived within my enchanted dreams. With the sun upon my face as it filtered through where I sat on the branches of a tree; I pretended that the branches were her loving arms wrapped around me.
I grew up with many strange voices, and left to take care of me, my daddy really tried. So I flourished under heavenly skies, I was silent in my loneliness, from birth a motherless child.
©2019.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree
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The Last Chapter 
Reblogged this on Becoming is Superior to Being and commented:
This is a writing I will many experience, but few are willing to admit. — kenne
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Thank you Ken. E.
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wow you have published heaps … love your writing!
Is this your reality?
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Yes. My writing, fiction, poetry and the blog post are all based on experiences in my life, I sometimes call the “works” faction as it is a little of both fact and fiction. Thanks for the comment. E.
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oh what a wonderful word “faction” love it, may I use it sometime please? I love when I discover new words that make so much sense … most of us write that way!
Thanks ELizabeth, so nice to meet you 🙂
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Of course you can use it…I like it when followers try to give me advice like “you may need medication” or “we will pray for you”. Well, I don’t turn down prayers anytime, but living and creating with words somewhere between fiction and faction seems to make sense to me. Have a great evening. E.
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why on earth would they try to advise a wise wordsmith … let them take their own medicine … you keep creating 🙂
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This resonates with me deeply, born into a house of chaos, my mother absent due to illness, I found my ‘mothering’ in the woods behind our house. You write of it beautifully.
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Thank you. E.
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Welcome.
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