Soft gentle memories. 

Winter brings new 

memories of old, 

the air scented with 

bonfires, log fires, 

first kisses, 

Tear filled goodbyes, 

cold legs and glances shy. 

Waning moons

Teardrops on ebbing 

Tides. Dark skies 

Oh the dark skies that 

Whisper to my soul 

‘you are home. Oh 

You my dear are home.’

Crystalised frost 

Beauty where only 

The devil plays, 

 And the soft gentle 

Echo of memories lane. 
Karen Hayward ©2016

Published by

blossom666

Welcome to my blog! Here you will find different forms of creative writing, lots of swearing, erotic poetry, random thoughts, beautiful imagery, but most of all you will find a version of truth. My truth, this is the way that I see the world. However, all of my work is a form of creative writing, a combination of truth and fiction. I write to express my creativity, not my needs!

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