Winter thawing through the dense months.

Puddles frozen

play paused

constrictive clothing

Till winter thaws.

The screaming gull.

In the early hours of darkness as the sun slowly ascended the gulls were screaming. Distant echoed warnings piercing the silence. Muted grey clouds licked the horizon hinted promises of humidity howled in the constant cries as they searched for scraps of left over food and dry land to rest that tired wings. Orange hues disperse the melancholic grey as sparrows sing and blue tits play. The haunting cries of gull a dying whisper as morning breaks. Climbing back into bed, nature’s symphony becomes the back drop of my dreams.
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.

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.

Softly I fall.

Once fresh and vivid green with

flushed pink cherry blossom petals

dancing at her side.

The small leaf was transformed

by autumn. Her soul the

deepest red of a dying heart.

Winds charged past her,

in a twirling swirl of immediate

urgency.

Each gust pulling her

toward a subtle breeze.

Each breeze pushing her back

toward the growing storm.

Will she ever stop falling?

Will the soft breeze ever catch her?

A constant cyclone

as she transforms and withers

into a winter leaf.

Dearest Sun rise,

You join me so

much later each

day, I miss your

vivid warmth

that spans

the skies.

Stray Grains of Sand.

It’s only in darkness that the light skips across the sand.
It’s only as the sun leaves and the moon arrives that silence comes.
Only when I need it does the tide ebb foamed in white,
And only when my eyes are closed so tight.
Only when my eyes are closed do I feel the soft salty mist against my cheeks.
Only when in darkness do I see the particles of light that look like crushed crystals.
Only hours later do i feel the stray grains of sand as my fingers glide across my skin and instantly i am back there toe deep in the oceans brittle glitter.
It’s only with my eyes closed tight that I can feel the ocean breathe through me,
and I realise I have the strength of the on coming tide
With the moon to be my guide.
I have this darkness so I can see the light,
And the strength, so I can win the fight.

Thawed Ice.

I awake when the skies are still dark and the world is still at peace

and in the darkness I listen to the beat of the natural world

the song of the bird the whistle of the wind and the soothing

embrace as she reaches her fingers across the skies and

warms even the coldest of hearts. I wait for that each morning

I wait for the sun to rise and thaw the frozen ice.

Slither of Light in Dark.

A small slither of moon illuminates the sky

as dying stars fall before my eyes.

The light hidden within my darkest days

as the light in my dark skips and plays.