Category: autism poetry

Modern Bedtime Story…

Photo

(Photoprompt)

Do not judge without pause…

Our twilight hours are illuminated by blue screens

and chuckles of delight,

for you see…

my body does not know day nor night.

Atypical regulation is absent

my mind does not close at the dimming of light.

So I ask of you please,

stop and look…at our daily fight.

A pillow for one with two joyous heads

because I don’t like going to bed.

When I close my eyes what happens then?

And are certain our dreams are just pretend?

There’s no song my Mum can happily hum

that doesn’t hurt my ears,

No classic tale she can tell

that will settle down my tears.

I need her here, but, she must not touch,

Oh, I love my Mummy so very much!

Beneath the covers I feel her warmth

she does not move…for that can cause a storm!

I watch a vid and another too

but none of them are ever new!

That would be too scary

far,

far,

far,

too SCARY.

I like to know exactly what comes after

this ensures the echos of my laughter.

It calms the beating of my heart

my tablet, you see, plays an integral part.

I went to bed at seven and now the clock says twelve,

My Mum, she is reading, facts in which she’ll delve.

I know that she is tired I see it in her eyes

and all throughout the night she dreams of starless skies.

I know when time has come, she tells me one, two, three

then pulls the covers up and we cuddle…but just our feet.

And now i’m feeling safe and now I’m feeling tired

and contrary to belief I do not wake feeling wired!

My Mum, she does not hum a song or tell me of a tale

instead, she falls asleep each night, with the world

telling her she failed.

Karen Hayward ©2017

Image used via photoprompt (Maricris Cabrera)

 

 

Dearest baby girl.

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(My baby aged 2….she’s 9 now)

Dearest baby,
my beautiful lady,
I’ll love you always,
never maybe….
did you see it?
Her smile?
She understood,
she heard your
silent screams,
saw your
violent pain,
that lady that we saw,
she’ll put you
on your lane.
She wants to
help you out,
will carry a
little burden,
will be your
whispered wings
as you roar into
the skies.
Did you hear her?
She heard you.
My little lady,
my darling little baby,
she heard you,
she’s gonna walk
at your side,
help you battle through.
She heard you.
She heard you my little lady.
She heard you.

Karen Hayward @©2016

To my baby girl.

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Baby girl, when you were born and they placed your beautiful soul into my arms I made you, one, single, promise. I didn’t promise you diamonds or wealth, I promised the only thing I could give, love. There would never be a moment in your life when you wondered if I loved you, you would know this at a core soul level. When you was two and the doctors said, you have learning needs, I made you one, single, promise, I would become the voice you needed. I would fight every fear I have to stand toe to toe with authority, I would be your soldier. When you was five and you waltzed into that classroom, I made you just the one, single, promise, that even though you could not see me, I was there, always, wings outspread protecting you. When you were seven and you said, I don’t want to go to school, my heart broke, they had broken you and for a split second I let the world suffocate me, my soul burning in the ashes I was reborn. I screamed louder, I searched harder, I stopped at nothing, I became the dreaded parent that every teacher hates. When you was eight and you said, I like school, I once again began to breathe. This year I’ve seen your anxiety reach new levels, I’ve watched as finally your voice became a whisper, I’ve watched you crumple and bounce back again and one day I will write of when you was nine and everything changed, yet nothing changed for my promises to you, baby girl, they are a lifetimes promise. And so the story begins, when you was nine and you got to spend time with the therapy dog I saw the hinted whisper in your eyes that finally they could hear your inaudible cries. ♥

 

Karen Hayward ©2016

School echoes on the last of the summers breeze.

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My dearest child the days have come

and passed and summers end is upon us.

School lingers, the mornings darken

as I fold away your uniform

let me tell you of my thoughts…

You are the calm between the beats of my

heart, the pride that swells every time I see

your smiling face.

Do not forget this.

Do not ever forget this.

This world can appear topsy turvy,

 your soul is oh so sensitive but know this,

you are the product of me,

inside of you,

inside of me,

is a ferocious lioness,

let her be your strength.

And when the lights shine too bright

and the noise screams

too loud, and when everything

is too hard, remember this,

You are my proudest accomplishment,

my heart skips a beat at every breath you take,

butterflies swarm through me every time

you calm your raging heart

and let that whisper out into the universe.

You are all that you are meant to be.

You are perfect, you see.

Karen Hayward ©2016

 

There’s no…

*Poems theme, the acceptance of occupational therapy led specialist equipment for a child with neurological needs ( gravitational insecurities, ASD, learning needs) Sigh.
There’s no 

preparation 

for the hiccoughs 

along our road. 

No amount of 

reading,

talking

or thinking. 

No one to catch 

me if I pause

and consider. 

So I choose

to see this 

with the same 

silver lining I see 

in every cloud that lands

upon my mat.
Karen Hayward ©2016

Anxiety in children; when the Caterpillar is too scared to turn.

We don’t ask for much only that you hear. 

Trust us when we tell you it’s a founded fear. 

Stop dismissing us as helicopter mums,

When will  you see anxietys not fun. 

You don’t understand I see it on your face,

every time I leave her here at this place. 

You do not know best. 

She’s not the same as the rest.

Every day I speak with you, every day nothing new,

Suddenly you decide theres a problem out of the blue?

And the reason for this problem, you haven’t got a clue!!

When I speak do you wander in your mind to your secret place,

Nod and smile, but you’re gone without a trace. 

Do you know what anxiety is? 

Can you recognise it? 

Can you see it in a child as they cower from the clouds,

sudden movements, a chill, the shade, a noise that’s too loud? 

Do you even see it, or is she so very quiet you just leave her be? 

If she cried and she screamed and she stamped her feet,

If she ripped her work and kicked her seat,

Would you help her then? 

Would you scour books with paper and pen? 

Would you be afresh with ideas to help my young girl,

Could YOUR understanding of anxiety, change HER world?
Karen Hayward ©2016

Fear of unknown proportions. 

The soul knows what the mind forgets. 

I watch you standing at the window as rain streams ferociously down the glass 

I watch as unknown terrors become a remembered whisper. 

As your soul envelopes your heart slowing the rapid beat into a rhythmic lullaby.

Your eyes flash brighter than any lightening as a smile creeps across your face. 

Your fear washed into the drains as flash floods create an explosion of giggles.

“This is cool, mum”.  You say as the skies rumble,

Not their fear inducing rumble 

Just a rumble. 

You catch raindrops on your hand as we search for the rainbow,

Never before has that arch of beauty felt so magical then in this moment.

Karen Hayward ©2016 (images and words)