Till winter thaws.
Karen Hayward ©2017
Till winter thaws.
Karen Hayward ©2017
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
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.
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.
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
Karen Hayward ©2015.
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
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
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.
Karen Hayward (©2015) poem and image.
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.
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.