She is…


She is… Comfort with a beating heart.

I pull her in tight close my eyes from the dark.

Her heat radiates, I am warmed to my core

I pull her close yearning for more.

Her tiny heart, beats alongside mine,

And I know that together we will be just fine.

Karen Hayward ©2017


Halloween poem


There once was a wizard by his side was a witch,

he could not dance and she could not stitch!

So the wizard asked the Owl who hooted from the tree,

‘Can you show me how to dance and can you do it for free?’

The owl, looking down with big round eyes simply said ‘Too whit to whoo’.

The the Owl being bored away he flew.

The Witch was feeling desperate she had to mend a dress,

she went into the darkest cave in search of a vampire… seamstress.

An empty echo in the dark only her footsteps followed her

then Bat wings swarmed through and the rest was a blur.

She woke upon the floor her dress about her head,

feeling kinda dizzy she went in search of her bed.

Wizard asked the wolf ‘Can you show me how to dance?’,

Wolf gave a growl and went to ask the Cat,

but Cat decided no after one too many splats.

Wizard, feeling kinda sad came upon some ogres

or perhaps it was a troll.

He followed through the bushes as the couple took a stroll.

He listened as they talked of Octobers hallow eve,

followed as they walked and thought of Mrs Witches sleeve.

Oh how he longed to dance with her for he loved her very much,

but that’s another story full of far too much slush.

Then wizard stopped to cry he sobbed and sobbed,

he howled into the night and the trolls or ogres

i’m really not to sure looked to the skies

and screamed in utter fright!

Well now, Mrs Troll…or ogre bumped her head real bad,

so Wizard grabbed a needle and his favourite sewing bag.

Witch on hearing the night skies howl

sprang into action for she couldn’t miss a chance,

to spring through the forest singing as she danced.

And as the full moon rose high into the skies,

Wizard and the Witch walked slowly toward home.

Giggling as they strolled for they really hadn’t known.

As hallows eve begins and darkness fall saround

If you follow the howls and deathly growls

you know what can be found?

Why Witch of course dancing in her dress

and Wizard at her side, with dance moves to impress.

Karen Ann Hayward ©2016

co author, Emily-Rose Ann Hayward (Stannard)


Saturday Rituals.

When I was little, strawberry blonde curls and those pools of blue, I spent Saturday morning, snuggled in your bed watching David Frost with you.

Then I grew.

Next came a cuppa in bed, by now I’ve aged I’m ten instead. The little black and white screen, cartoons now snuggled at your feet, there in your bed I watched them with you.

Then I grew.

Hangovers came next before the legal age, but never did you show a bit of rage. Tea for me tea for her, and her and her. Cartoons gone, the morning news, I’d sit and watch just me and you.

Then I grew.

And Saturdays became a blur as I scurried round to be ready for work. Tea on the side and toast going pop. The morning sun and me and you.

Then I grew.

Wings to fly the nest, history they call the rest. Saturdays were truly gone, now they always felt so wrong. Another day for dinner and tea, just you and me, me and you.

Then I grew.

I grew and grew and grew some more. Travelled away to another shore. The miles betweens us to far for a simple knock at the door. I grew and grew and grew some more.

Saturday morning as the sun cracks the morning sky I boil the kettle grab a cup, dial your number and patiently wait. First comes the white noise silence as you slip on the hearing aid….’Hello. Hello. Hello…ahh gotcha, alrite love.’
For sixty precious minutes we put the world to rights as we sip on tea. We talk politics and religion and atrocities and life, sometimes you simply give me advise. My Saturdays are long gone, but the cycle repeats, every Saturday without fail as the day begins, loud speaker on…..

‘Hello my Princess.’
‘Hello, Gandad. Love you Gandad.’
‘Love you more.’
‘Love you to the moon Gandad.’
‘Love you to the moon and stars Princess.’
(Girlish giggling.)
‘Love you to the moon and stars and back and to the sun Gandad, and to infinity too.’

My Saturdays curled up watching David Frost are gone, but hearing this declarations of love, Saturday no longer feels so wrong.

Karen Hayward ©2016.

I wish I had of known you.

Dedicated to all of the friends I have made along the way, the parents/grandparents and relatives and sometime’s just simply the people who get it!

I wish I had known you when

the health visitor asked

‘Is that all she can say?’

I wish I had known you that day

full of doom and gloom,

the first time sitting in the

children’s outpatient waiting room.

I wish I had known you

the first day it became inappropriate

for her to cry and freeze

in the super market, all eyes on me.

On the outside I was a rock

on the inside pink melting candy floss.

I wish I had known you when she was five

and still the stairs she screamed were too high.

I wish I had known you then.

It would have been nice to have had a friend.

I wish I had known you when the first friend

dropped away, communications just came to an end.

I wish I had known you every step of the way,

because had I , I’d have been able to say…

You’re doing just fine,

you’re so very kind,

I’ve a moment to hear

I can always be near.

As you hit each new issue

and reach for a tissue

I would have listened.

I would have stood at your side

been along for the ride.

I wish we would have known each other

back then,

when all of us felt alone and needed a friend.

Karen Hayward ©2015


Mother and daughter, in a single second.

IMG_20151120_093458 (2)

In a single second I have a thousand thoughts.

I visit a thousand places

and see a thousand faces.

I see a thousand sights,

my feet walk a thousand miles

and I see a thousand smiles.

I touch a thousand hearts

and see a thousand stars.

In a single second

I am everywhere but here.

Then in a single glance I see you,

and I know I have found home.

This home has no walls

and it has no floor.

This home is not a place

but a response to your face.

A journey, an honor placed upon me

and when I look upon your eyes I see my destiny.

And in the beating of our hearts i know;

that every path I took,

every darkness bestowed upon me,

every tear that fell,

was for you.

In a single second I am everywhere

but here,

in a single glance I am always near.

Karen Hayward ©2015. Image and words.

A mothers voice in chaos.

♥ For Emily-Rose, always I will be your voice.


Dear Teacher,

They tell me to empower you to show you the way

to tell you the things that you really should say.

They tell me to stay calm and use positive words

but surely you know the definition of these terms.

Individuals you say you treat them the same

a contradiction of words your excuses are lame.

But you know best, you learned from a book

and just a few years is all it took.

You’ve seen it before you’ll see it again

these kids to you are simply a pain.

They need this, they need that

and fidget constantly where they are sat.

They’re calm, they’re a whirlwind, a tornado of sorts

and no one really knows what’s in those thoughts.

So hard to reach

so hard to teach,

so listen now to a mothers speech.

Listen to me and you’ll hear her voice

anxiety is not her choice.

She doesn’t choose to with hold

or do exactly what she’s told.

She isn’t all smiles and happy and love

why can’t you see she finds school tough?

Open your eye’s and watch how she flies,

can’t you see how much she tries?

she mimics the world but the clues are there

please, just show her that you actually care.

Do as you tell and look as you see

be the person you want her to be.

Don’t tell her you will, you can and it’s done

her fears are real not a bit of fun.

I know she’s a mouse in a black hole of silence

but the anxiety she feels is an internal violence.

Stop looking past, over and through

show her that she can trust you.

Each day I stand back and watch her walk

knowing she’s spending another day unable to talk.

You’ll utter across her avoiding her eyes,

‘why didn’t tell me? Why?’

Your tone has gone up, your body has moved

gone is the voice all tender and smooth.

She did wrong, she did wrong and doesn’t know why

her tears are swelling she just wants to cry.

But you hold that stare, the one filled with fear

waiting for the answer to suddenly appear.

The answer to what? The why’s and the hows

forgotten by the now’s?

Why am I telling you this

you trained for years to become their Miss.

Why every few months are we here once again

whatever I tell you, it ain’t gonna change.

So I take a deep breath and think of glitter

trying to push back the emotional bitter.

I smile and talk and go through the list

hoping to God there’s nothing I’ve missed.

You’ll nod and agree and say you can see

this is reality, the way it will always be.


Karen Hayward ©2015


The Train Journey.

We’re going on a train today,

a train that moves and moves,

so my mummy brought along the bag,

filled with things that sooth.

We’re going on a train today,

along the bumpy tracks.

So my mummy wrote it out and

drew a detailed map.

We’re going on a journey that

takes us far from home,

my mummy brought my teddies

so I wouldn’t feel alone.

We’re going to a party,

where all these people love me,

my hearts in all a flutter,

so many things,

I need a shutter.

The train is going fast, the people

talk to much,

and in London it is obvious

they all do rush, rush, rush.

So my mummy takes my hand

and kisses on my cheek,

‘Relax my little lady’

these memories are yours

to keep,

Let go of the anxiety

and fly high above your head

look there in the deep blue sky

spread your wings instead.

I went on a train today

and my mum was right,

I really was ok.

My legs were heavy

and I wanted to flee,

my heart went fast,

but this didn’t last.

I got too hot

wanted it to stop,

my mouth was dry,

but at least I knew the reason


I went on a train today,

a perfect memory

that will always stay.

The lions whisper.

Dear Teacher,

Today I trust you with my world,

so please, take care of my little girl.

She worked so hard to make it here

to fight back the terrible fear.

It’s hard for you to understand,

if you’ll only listen, I know you can.

Anxiety is no ones friend,

but most of all it’s not pretend.

Too scared to move,

you doubt it’s true,

if only for a moment, I wish you knew.

It’s not a coat or a badge of pride,

it’s a crippling fear, deep down inside.

It wears no face, it has no laugh,

it’s not tattooed there upon a scarf.

So hold her hand, take deep breaths,

she’s using up all that’s left.

That little whisper, is a lions roar,

don’t wait until, she can take no more.

Today I trust you with my world,

so please, take care of my brave, brave girl.