Category: nature poetry

Whispering wisps.

IMG_20170727_193140The trees murmured of our love
long before the leaves whispered
our ancient names. On births
creation a constellation of
speckled veins traversing,
passing, rushing, yearning…
passion stirring, paths crashing.
Entwining energies, stoic
thread of silver calm, stitched
perhaps by Zeno in days before.
Are we the calm or the storm?

Karen Hayward ©2017

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Ode to the plum tree I’ve stripped bare.

How to grow a plum tree from a fresh seed

Once upon an autumn day
Fell to earth a pit,
Most likely twas a sunny
Spot where children once
did sit.
Through winters love
The pit did freeze,
till out fell a tiny seed
that bloomed into
a lonesome tree
With luscious leaves
that grew so free.
And summers came and
Winters went,
through rain and hail
All weathers sent,
This little tree grew
Mighty strong
And truly it was
Not long, till sprouting
from out his branch
Was love so glorious
from his golden heart.
Emerald jewels
Of luscious green
This tree I often pondered
surely is but a dream!
I checked each day
with a lovers splendor
touched the gems
In search of tender.
Till there upon a
summer eve
Upon the floor
A gruesome thief
All battered flesh
ripped apart
I could see the
Cold stone of
My lovers heart.
I stopped and looked
And wondered should I?
Could I? How the hell
wouldn’t I! This gem
in royal plum,
rich and juicy
from the glory sun
I heard the tiny
supple split of twig,
A little turn did the trick.
A held this beauty
in my hand,
Felt the love from
Of this land,
Smelt the sweet
heaven scent,
then sunk my teeth
In the devils descent.
Tore at flesh of
darkest hue,
Addicted now I was to you.
Sweet tender juice
upon my lips
heaven sent this tender
kiss.
No leaves or jagged
branch apart
could keep me from
my one true heart.
I filled my pockets
and even my sleeves
I had to have them
all for keeps.
Till bare the tree now
does sit,
such beauty came
from that tiny pit.

Karen Hayward©2017
Image found on pinterest

Without the Rainbow Pieces.

Photo courtesy of Walter E. Gantt. ©2016

‘Pieces of a Rainbow.’

waltergannt

I feel a vast emptiness inside of me,

spreading through the black storm

clouds, I search for my Rainbow and

I recall you gave it away.

And I search  for my love

and I remember you gave it away.

And I wonder where is my passion

and I recall you gave up that too.

And I ponder the way we once connected,

perfectly synchronized

and I don’t even try as you gave that away…

And now I wonder what is left…

A future?

A future without love

without passion

without soul

…is a slow and torturous death.

Karen Hayward ©2016

Image used with permission ©Walter E. Gantt. 2016

Please see more of his amazing photography here on g+

His wonderful photography can also be

viewed and brought here at Fine Art America.

The Universe as She Blesses Me.

img_20160423_145521.jpg

 

And in every grey cloud

I see rain drops

soothing

my soul.

In every winter tree

I see rebirth,

lush green

and

pinks divine.

In every smear of mud

I see our fair land

and spirits

soar.

On every tide

I see adventures

exciting, exhilarating

new shores.

In new eyes I see love

and smiles I see beauty

and with each dawning sun

I feel the universe

as she

blesses

me.

Karen Hayward ©2016

Tip tapping.

The mornings dawn 

rises amidst ferocious 

winds, branches swaying 

in anger, tip tapping, 

tip tapping at my window. 

Sleep evades me,

Tip tapping, tip tapping. 

A lonesome voice calls 

into the night, shouting,

A repeated name, a cat? 

A dog? I hear the fear 

reverberate in her pitch.

Gulls scream to be heard.

Secrets tumbling from the

tips of lush green leaves.

Again she calls out. 

Emptiness follows. 

Just the tip tapping. 

Tip tapping.

As angry branches

hit against my window.
Karen Hayward ©2016

Cherry Blossom.

img_20160113_154733

Have you ever seen the cherry blossom,
dancing in the breeze?
Or felt their silky softness as they grow about the tree?
Have you ever seen their leaves,
as they lose their precious green?
Or seen their earthly red after they have been?
Have you ever watched the petals as they float beneath the sky,
delicately floating they look as though they fly.
Have you ever seen them pile,
rotting all the while,
Pinkness tinged with yellow.
Have you felt them on your toe?
Or picked them from your hair?
Have you ever gave a petal, to show that you do care?
Have you ever seen the cherry blossom…
just dancing through the air?

Karen Hayward ©2016 (Image and words)