Touch me, make me bloom.

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Just as the rose,
with her luscious crimson
petals that peel open
before the Sun,
I peel open for you.
My flushed petals curling outward,
my colour, fluid and vi-
brant upon your words.
My floral fragrance
disperses upon your intent.
My blossom awaits your
touch and when I think
I am in full bloom,
my petals become a
little plumper, my colour a little deeper and my scent
becomes your very own personal pheromone,
answering to your
primal calls.

Karen Hayward (c)2017

Image and words.

Butterfly wings.

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My butterfly stands waiting at the window for her fluttering friend to arrive. Patience has kept her there for 90 minutes and the time has still not come, so still she waits as she teeters on the edge of forever. Shoes on, hair self brushed and bag packed with the teddy. The pink teddy that is almost nine, just like her. The sun is falling across her mousy blonde hair, streaks are appearing, she says, mum, take the colour of your hair so I can see the real colour, go look in a mirror I tell her. She giggles and shows me her matching freckle by the base her thumb, just like mine. How many minutes, she asks, a while I reply knowing no answer will appease her as time has currently stopped in her world. I sit back and watch her, her eyes are sparkling and I see the tiny fluttering of her wings…my phone beeps. ‘They’re on their way sweety’. I swear I just saw her soul soar into the sky and do somersaults. 

Curiosities of a mud filled sky.

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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.

Chrysalis transformation of beauty.

The switch came with a level

of ease that only the broken know.

It had lay there dormant before your

eyes

you never saw and you never see.

I always wondered how the transformation

would occur,

and when,

and now,

now your eyes see an

entire world and no longer

they see me.

Did you ever see the chrysalis?

It was always your creation,

never could you have dreamed

of the butterfly I would become.