Without the Rainbow Pieces.

Photo courtesy of Walter E. Gantt. ©2016

‘Pieces of a Rainbow.’


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.

Give me your kisses, i’ll give you my hand.


Give to me daisies

picked from the ground

fill them with promises

that can’t be found.

Sing me a song,

sang from the heart

promise me always,

not a day apart.

Show me skies

of turquoise blue

and tell me how

you always knew.

Give me an ocean

fierce and calm

place treasured

shells into my palm.

Pick me some daisies,

twirled in a ring,

promises of love

and what the future brings.

Give me your kisses

i’ll give you my hand,

right here by the ocean

right here on the sand.

Karen Hayward ©2016




The Universe as She Blesses Me.



And in every grey cloud

I see rain drops


my soul.

In every winter tree

I see rebirth,

lush green


pinks divine.

In every smear of mud

I see our fair land

and spirits


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



Karen Hayward ©2016



I had a dream
My necessary dream
Slumber’s own addiction
Where forever we have loved
Dancing among eons of time
and I dreamt of a storm and we were the tempest
and I dreamt of rain and we were cool gentle mist
And stars illuminated the celestial heavens,
As ancient memories awakened within us.
Our essence caressing the very core of our existence,
And I dreamt of the sun and we were the golden rays of light,
and I dreamt of the moon and we were the ebbing tides.
Darkness washed away on a crescent wave
Love unbound in a midnight dream.

© Dreams by Michael Garland and Karen Hayward
© Image by Michael Garland
All rights reserved.

This amazing collaboration poem written by Michael Garland and myself is a beautiful combination of his stunningly beautiful writing and my writing 🙂

Michael’s poetry can be found on both facebook and g+. He is soooooo worth checking out, his poetry is entirely laced with the beauty of love, the sensuality of existence and the charm of happy ever afters.

God popped round tea today.

I had God over for a drink tonight.
We sat enjoying the evening light.
We sipped slowly on hot sweet tea,
and he spoke a little about me.
I offered him a biscuit but he kindly did decline,
So I gobbled down the pack myself and hoped he wouldn’t mind.
He didn’t look like the books all say,
and he spoke in an entirely different way.
His accent, Scottish, Irish and a little more
and when he talked he paced the floor.
I didn’t ask the reasons why we live beneath a blue sky,
or why we tick and tock along
or what is right and what is wrong.
We talked of spring and blooming weeds,
of daffodils and sunflower seeds.
He plumped some cushions and took a seat
told me he was feeling beat.
Busy, busy till the day of rest
Wednesdays he said, I do detest,
But Tuesday, said this short haired man
Was really not Thursdays fan
and alas, Wednesday made the final plans.
His cell phone (green, just saying) beeped and beeped,
I asked him does it ever sleep?
Never, God said to me
I am always forever free.
He pulled a ragged deck of cards from out his denim pocket,
out fell too some aging hair locked up tight in a locket.
A card for me a card for him,
He said, show me now the way you win.
I blushed a little and filled with heat,
for God knows at games I cheat.
He smiled as he read my thoughts,
and said, my darling girl, it is I that controls what you are taught.
So we played the game
with no shame
and he did lose
this is true.
I yawned a little as stars blinked by
and God stared lovingly into the sky.
Look here, he said whilst pointing out
I looked upon the dying night,for constellations I know nout.
This is my window he said to me,
all of you are what I see.
When tea was drunk
and biscuits dunked
I walked him to the door
he took me by the hands and said, it’s okay to not be sure.
I looked a moment into Golden eyes,
then bid God a brief goodbye.

Karen Hayward ©2016.

Rays of sprinkles gold dust.

I’m afraid if I let you close I will shatter beneath your finger tips. Splinters of a broken soul held together with an endless hope that everything I believe is wrong.
I’m afraid that if for a moment you catch a glimpse inside the deep ocean of my eyes you will see that I am drowning. Drowning within my soul, alone in a freezing ocean the undercurrent dragging me down the sun’s sprinkled gold dust holding me up. Waiting for the storm that will crash through me as the moon herself sends wave after wave to test my strength. I’m afraid you will see that I will fail, I cannot swim in these shores. I’m afraid that if I close my eyes and whisper to moons pearl glow the tune in which my soul sings, that you will not hear the melody, you will not know the song. You will hear only the beat of your own soul and believe it drums in unison. I’m afraid I will never know the single beat of my drum, the echo as it breaks through atoms, the constant beat of a soft lullaby of knowing. I’m afraid I’ll never know, me.

Karen Hayward ©2016