Old man up my road
owns a white
Siberian husky.
He pounds along
the path chasing
cats, pulling old man
here, there
everywhere.
His bark is fierce
splits atoms
demands attention.

Old man up the road
pauses at our gate,
for Husky blue eyes
searches for his
Princess blue eyes and
he finds her.

Husky stands tall
with his front paws
perched atop the
Black iron gate.
Head bowed.
He does not bark,
jump, skip or
dance with
excitement.
He patiently waits.

Small girl squeals
with delight
‘our friend, mummy’
she looks to me
for permission.

Permission granted.

Small girl walks steadily
to the gate leaving
behind her fears
and anxiety.
Husky holds his position.
Pausing a foot away
she reaches out small
tender fingers…

Husky smells, a small
dance in his back paws
as her fingers delve
deep into his fur
they rub heads for
a split second
then husky is calm
blue eyes searching
blue eyes, she smiles.

Old man tells me
he ain’t never seen husky
like this with no one…
She must be special he says.

Old man knows.
Husky knows.
I know.

One day she too will know.

Karen Hayward ©2018

Image found on pinterest

Oh how we love… 

I love the snow,
gloves, scarf and wooly hat,
Extra socks and a jumper or two
Squeals of delight and a Snowball fight
Cold toes begin to hurt cold hands
radiate heat, tingling fingers,
Heat rises and I feel snug
warm and glowing…

She loves the snow,
Hates, coats, gloves, scarf
and wooly hats, no extra socks,
sandals please, no jumpers mum
she begins to scream. Squeals of delight, snow on bare skin, fingers wet
cold, glowing eyes and
smiling lips, her heart
skips a beat.

We love the snow,
but hate your stares
muttered disbelief to
pretend you care. Ask,
and we’ll happily talk,
don’t stare, whisper,
and slow your walk.

She loves the snow
but she hates heat, a second
passes and she is faint,
a second more and it’s
breakfast paint. Just pause
a moment close your lips,
watch, listen truly see
I’m not about to let her
freeze, look closer,
See me touch her
arm as I wander past
see the coat across my arm…

… But mostly,
See the smile across
her soul, hear the laughter
of a spirit free and happy,
Look closly at
those pools of blue…

The problem isn’t us,
the problem is you.

Karen Hayward ©2017

I’m sorry but not sorry.

image

I’m sorry, my beautiful darling I’m sorry that I pushed your boundaries beyond the scope you see. I’m sorry. Take my heart and place it inside your chest and I will beat a calming lullaby for you to mimic as you travel through your school day. Take my whispers and place them tickling against your ear and hear me as I sing to you songs of love and wisdom. Take my hand and feel it fingers entwined with yours my grip tight, you are mine, you are never alone. Take my hand. I’m sorry your body and mind is screaming a chaotic melody that is tip tapping, tip tapping in the blood that rushes through your veins. I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry my beautiful girl. The London underground is torture for most, I’m not sorry. Changes occur daily, I’m sorry, but I’m not sorry. The unknown scares man more than any other thing in this universe and you faced it bravely…I’m not sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry there were staircases at every turn I’m sorry one was spiralled. I’m certainly not sorry that you faced each set with the courage of a lioness. I’m sorry your panic bubbled inside your heart and simmered in your blood. I’m not sorry that you trusted me, I’m never sorry that you trust me. I’m sorry escalators were our final and only choice, I’m sorry you broke, I’m sorry tears fell, I’m sorry your heart hurt from beating. My beautiful girl I am not sorry it happened. I’m sorry you had to walk to the top of a switched off escalator that ran through a tunnel and reached to the skies, dear God I am sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t allowed to walk with you, I was feet away and felt each stab as the knife plunged into my soul with each step. I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry that I met you at the top, your eyes filled with fear your arms shaking, your legs like jelly. And there the glint of hope, the glint of bravery, the glint of excitement…I am not sorry, you did it, I am not sorry.
I’m sorry, school is again upon us and you are tired, anxiety is bubbling and the world us too bright, too loud and too much. You survived engineering work on the London underground….you got this my beautiful lioness.

Karen Hayward ©2016

I wish I had of known you.

Dedicated to all of the friends I have made along the way, the parents/grandparents and relatives and sometime’s just simply the people who get it!

I wish I had known you when

the health visitor asked

‘Is that all she can say?’

I wish I had known you that day

full of doom and gloom,

the first time sitting in the

children’s outpatient waiting room.

I wish I had known you

the first day it became inappropriate

for her to cry and freeze

in the super market, all eyes on me.

On the outside I was a rock

on the inside pink melting candy floss.

I wish I had known you when she was five

and still the stairs she screamed were too high.

I wish I had known you then.

It would have been nice to have had a friend.

I wish I had known you when the first friend

dropped away, communications just came to an end.

I wish I had known you every step of the way,

because had I , I’d have been able to say…

You’re doing just fine,

you’re so very kind,

I’ve a moment to hear

I can always be near.

As you hit each new issue

and reach for a tissue

I would have listened.

I would have stood at your side

been along for the ride.

I wish we would have known each other

back then,

when all of us felt alone and needed a friend.

Karen Hayward ©2015

 

Autism, some ask if I wish it were another way!

Autism, some ask if I wish it were another way,

when this happens I sigh and wonder what to say.

Yes, yes I do wish that life were another way.

 

I wish society would open their eye’s,

and stop making my little girl cry,

just pause, and see life through her eye’s.

 

I wish that her needs really didn’t matter,

I wish for less stupid idol chatter

and more dedication to the real things that matter.

 

I wish you could see how happy she is without a coat

understand she isn’t being stubborn when she refuses, ‘nope!’

the heat, the feel, the sound, the weight all this from a coat.

 

I wish you didn’t see her size and think oh my,

5ft 6 and only 8, she almost touches the sky,

Treat her according to height, and I think oh fucking my!

 

I wish there was no need to say these things,

I wish you could hear her as she sings

and watch her as she assembles things.

 

I wish you could see a child that loves

rather than the child that can’t get enough

who constantly needs to know that she is safe and loved.

 

I wish you wouldn’t say ‘but she looks so norm…’

our entire life isn’t one big storm!

Not to mention the fact that she actually is the norm.

 

Yes, I wish things were another way,

I wish everyone knew the right things to say,

and mostly I wish, that there was no other way.

 

Karen Hayward © 2015.

 

 

 

 

I’ll Show You Your Dreams.

Tired and exhausted and my mind is a light

with the everyday life, that for my child is a fight.

But I promise you girl, I promise you this,

i’ll give you the words that you happen to miss.

I’ll be your hope, i’ll be your courage

i’ll be your strength, i’ll be your voice

and i’ll show you every day, that you

have a choice.

We’ll talk and we’ll touch and we’ll

play and we’ll learn,

‘Mum.’ is a title that I’ll truly earn.

I’ll show you your dreams, i’ll hold

your hand all the way,

because I promise you this,

you will be okay.

Karen Hayward (Copyright) 2015.