Wolf Moon

Image result for january wolfmoon

Do you see her,
my goddess ruling
the night skies,
an inferno of energy
surging through my veins…
I am one,
whole,
the fires of pure need
rise within me
as her blue embrace
caresses the lost
embers of my spirit.

She has woken
her light reigns
down upon Gaia
Pearlescent tears of
purity giving life
within the ascending
beats,
my Goddess,
do you feel her?
She rises within each of us,
tickling the inner sanctuary
of our soul
Waking us from
eternal slumber…
She is the essence
yin,
succubus,
goddess and elemental…

My twilight love
dancing across stars
skipping through darkness
Winged horses
draw forth her
silver chariot
as she swims
through the
Celestial
oceans…

Blessed are those
who tonight will see
my queen bleed
crimson hues eclipsed
in a moments
ethereal beauty.
Blessed are those who
feel without sight,
her energy-their life
force… Blessed are
those who rise in
the blue hues
of Selene’s
glorious
night skies.

Do you see her?
My Goddess rising
to rule her
Queen-dom
Do you feel her?

Karen Hayward ©2018
Image found via google search

Luscious greens

If these here lush green leaves could speak a word
they’d tell us perhaps, of the singing birds
of breaking dawn, autumn days, crisp air
and crunching blades, frozen grass, white as snow
hidden neath trees ageless bough in shadows
Yes, if those there leaves in morning glory
could tell a tale or two, they’d sing an ode
to nature’s red berries and brightest skies
of robins resting and crows feeding as 
Fat wet worms dangle from open beaks, and
Beneath endless skies of dancing blues
sun burns waking warm rays leaving a trail
of seasons blaze through days beginning
In gentle tones of vivid life and morning dew.

Karen Hayward © 2018
Image and words

Children of war…

Babies carried by children, ten thousand,
displaced souls leave Satan’s garden behind
and head toward uncertainty, alone.
Names filled pages, without hesitation
Hearts torn, tears suffocating lost spirits
mother’s sacrifice, father’s protection
The promise of God’s eternal blessings
holding the hands of siblings
newly made
guarded across the infinite ocean
There were few goodbyes said, mum’s knew their end
called and would be answered, alas the children
At least were free, welcomed at Harwich docks
Now a mangled wasteland of poverty,
but then, to those children, paradise to
the nobodies of Hitler’s insanity
on British soil they found a new homes
But still ten thousand tiny displaced feet
walked fretfully, alone, into unknown
territory, spirited by the
societies friends, eighty years on
I look around and wonder where those friends have gone…

Karen Hayward © 2018
Image found on Google

Statue of the kinder-train children at Liverpool st station, London.

Supine in a moments serenity

3D somehow becomes

2D and I am

transported through time

to when clouds

were shapes

and the sky

was an endless

playground.

Terra tugs at my core

caressing lost strands

of self

as my inner child

sings nursery rhymes

fit for a killer.

Death lays all around me.

Abandoned graves

aging trees

Adulthood on the

lost lips of kids as

they grasp at the

milk cartons

and for a moment

I see St Nicholas

flying high through

cornflower blue skies

I close my eyes

for a last moments

reprieve

“please wake me

from this dream”

but no one hears

I am four and

discovering

that God does

not exist…

… I lay now,

supine in a

moments serenity

reflecting my daily

wish to wake from

this dream

they call life…

Karen Hayward ©2018