Hungry ducks, hungry hearts.



You stood back for a moment watching

as the hungry ducks swarmed around

my daughters ankles. Beaks open,

ready for fresh bread.

Your offer was hesitant and full of faith

as you handed her the bag of bread. Her

eyes lit up, she had more food for

the snapping beaks, your eyes lit up

in response.

Karen Hayward ©2016. (Words and Image.)

The warning call as a storm approaches.

The local life guards have put out a public warning,
As winds rise and clouds come storming.
One for in, two for out, or was it two for in and one for out?
Either way that flare was once the life guards shout.
Within minutes they would rush the pier,
Whenever on duty they would always be near.
The bang echoed, silence followed and blessings were said,
As everyone whispered, please let no one be dead.

Karen Hayward ©2016.

Raindrops falling.

You are rain,
sleet perhaps,
you do not fall with
the fierceness of
You are the red blush
in my cheeks,
the searing heat
in the tips of my ears.
Your tears fall upon
my glass pane world.
No simply halting.
Poor drop of frozen
rain, can you not see?
Every path you take,
every path you took.
Leads to the same end,
no matter how hard
the fall,
no matter how fast
the race.

Karen Hayward ©2016

Curiosities of a mud filled sky.



Cold, wet earth.
Grey clouds and droplets of rain.
Daffodils already through, garden readying anew.  Transformation begins. Vibrational reflections felt, heard and required.
Even in winter, I come here when tired.
Damp dirt to awaken my spirit.
Life’s cycle, clearance nearing completion.
Spring will bring new hope.

Karen Hayward ©2016.



My soul has been aching, waiting for you.

Searching the empty sky for your return,

Your call whispering in the night of blue

Oh how deep it is my heart does yearn.

On this eve of evermore your light shines

upon my door, so close to your full form

I count the seconds until it is time

as your energy creates a loving storm.

For you are life and you are she

An empty sphere of dark and light

So simple. Without you we cannot be.

You come to us on the darkest nights,

sprinkling down your diamond shine

So we may know, it will all be fine.


Karen Hayward ©2015.


The Ocean’s rush.


Feel not the strength of my force
but the depth of my passion.
Feel me as I pull you under
the air pulled from your lungs
as I circle your body.
Feel me as you sink further in,
your eye’s lost in mine as I create a cyclone of desire.
Feel me as I devour your soul in one single wave of ecstasy.
Feel me as I wrap myself around your body,
feel me as excitement builds,
Feel me as my energy rises,
Fell me as my strength recovers,
Feel me as I explode against you in orgasmic rush.
Feel the depth of my passion as I pull you under.

Karen Hayward. 2015© Image and words.

Upon the shore of time.





When I close my eyes I can still feel the whispers of your thoughts

against my skin.  Muted the words skim across me dancing off the

ebbing tide. Hiding between the grains of sand.  You wonder why I

cannot see, perhaps I no longer know where to look, so many grains

covered by pebbles, endorsed by shells of hidden depth and crushed

by the seaside walkers. Perhaps I just don’t know where to look.

The tide draws up and then pulls back, leaving a trail of glistening

water in its path, foam litters the shore, covering more. I look for you

along the waters edge, you are so far out I cannot reach you, and I

am so far in you cannot see me. But everyday that tide draws in and every

day the water meets the grains of time. Every day I wonder if today

we can connect. Today on the shore we will meet with the ocean beneath

our feet.


Karen Hayward ©2015.




Winter darkness.


The frost seeps into my finger tips

as my mind tears open and rips.

Frost lays across the top of cars

the sky is looking less angrily dark.

I search for the moon for her haunting stare

to know for a second that she looks down and cares.

I search and look but the sky lays dark

apart from the lonely northern star.

What are the skies without the moon?

A darkness that envelopes to soon.

Karen Hayward (copyright) 2015. Image and words.