Give to me.

Give me an open fire with flickering flames,
Soft cushions on the floor where we lay.
A little something in a Crystal glass
To keep us warm, so this moment can last.
Give me clear skies and twinkling stars,
As we lay together beneath the dark
On whispered thoughts and echoed sighs
Let time here never fly.
Trail your fingers across my milky skin,
Your eyes the camera, your mind the film.
Capture me in my rarest form
As your touch creates this storm.
Let me leave an invisible trail upon you,
A forgotten memory that you can hold true.
I’ll write in fingers, in tongues and in taste,
But not for a moment will I do it in haste.
Give me an open fire with flickering flames,
Lay soft cushions on the floor where we can lay.

Karen Hayward ©2016.

Games of Old.


I want to play cards. Give me cards.

Old cards with worn out edges and the remnants

of forgotten nights and remembered mornings.

I want to play Black Jack, rummy,

and snap. Yes snap.

Fuck snap.

We’ll play strip snap.

I want to swallow down burning

hits of red aftershock as I shimmy

another Ace from sight.

Play me.

Lay out your cards and

show me your heart(s).

Let the night forget us in shadows

of lust, let the dawning sun be our light.

Wrap me in white cotton sheets, lead me as

cards fall from the air and onto the bed.

Lay me among Kings and Queens.

Spoil me.

Kiss me, lips locked together

as you pull memories from my hair. Push aside

my legs and as the morning sun falls upon us,

fall into me.

One deep thrust.

A nights worth of flirting, a lifetime of desire,

the dark moments in the shadows and

the whispered touches that only the breeze could carry.

One thrust.

Lips locked, fingers intertwined.

Let the air be sucked from my lungs

as you press my hands down into the bed.

Desire so deep, so dark, so desperate

let it seep from me into you and back again

as we are locked together in that single moment.

Hold me and never leaving my body free me. Watch me

as the white sheet falls and innocence is lost.

Hair tangled falling across my delicate skin

trail your fingers across my breast. Gently, stroking

as I rise up and arch my back ensuring a perfect lock.

Watch me. Your fingers trailing my thighs. Hear me

as carnal lust leaves my body covering you tightly,

throbbing, together as the morning sun drops

golden glitter across our skin.

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


Do you see?

Would you pause, to walk along

a freezing shoreline beside me?

To walk behind as I skip on ahead?

Would you smile as I pick up shells

would you hold the broken pieces of

sea glass, spearmint green and

royal blue and tiny slithers with a

yellow hue? Would you feel the warmth

of the winter sun on your skin?

Would you feel the energy of the sea

as she crashes into the sand?

Would you understand, what I see?

Would you know the endless possibilities?

Would you walk beneath the dark and

gloomy pier, would you know to hold

me near? Would you know my soul

yearns to celebrate the magnificent

sights of the universe, would you know

my passion is reflected? Could you see

that reflection? Would you know?

Would you walk beside me

and show me a thousand beautiful

things, a thousand forms of true,

each one looking so new.

Would you feel it? Would you feel

the passion in my words? Would you

see it as I dance among the birds?

Would you harness it? Would you know

to pull me close, hold me tight as though

I were a whispered ghost?

Or am I destined to always see things

so differently, to feel the universe in

my veins, passion as the

sea mist rains. Will anyone ever see,

what t is to be me?


Karen hayward ©2015.


Cosmic gravitation.

I do see it,
the sun and how it sits,
perfectly in the sky,
Showing me, where to fly.
And the moon
that whispers,
The futures coming, soon.
The twinkling stars
That are no longer, so far,
and sit now in a sky,
That is not so dark.
I do see it, the changes
the way the universe
The darkness that was once full of starkness,
Grows lighter, but it’s not
This that whispers, ‘you are a fighter’.
I am aware of the ease,
The subtle breeze,
The incessant need.
The unsaid knowing,
When nothing is showing.
I do see,
It doesn’t scare me.