I am the swirl,

the turn and the mix,

colours blended,

way beyond fix,

I am the screams,

the pierces of light,

I am the silence

I am the flight.

I am the flurry

instrewed upon sight

the westward sun

and the abandoned night.

I am the silence

out just for kicks

I am the swirl

the curve and the flick,

I am the swirl,

the curve

and the kick.

Karen Hayward ©2018 Image and words

Whispers from the universe.

I feel the vibrations in my soul,

the passion of a burning flame

ignite inside. The lure of the full

moon and all her power  runs through

my veins. I feel the earth as she spins

and the universe as she blinks. I feel

the ebbing tide as King Triton rages

a storm and the calm of the mermaids song.

I feel the breeze against my skin and

the wisdom of the leaves within.

I feel the night sky and the dying stars

I feel the emptiness of a blue sky without

edges. I feel the birds as they fly free wings

strong and able, I feel the catalyst as the

caterpillar turns and the dragon fly skips

across water. I can feel the universe.

I understand that everything has perfect

balance, I can feel the energy that ignites

my spirit, but I cannot find balance. I

do not know how to fly when my wings are broken.

I do not know how to transform into the

butterfly, I do not know how to run freely

like the breeze. I can feel the universe, I hear

the message. I do not know how to create balance.

I can not see me, I do not know how, to be me.

 

Karen Hayward ©2015.

 

Create a pocket of escapism.

I need a hole in time.
I need to rip open the
vortex of reality and
mold myself a corner.
A creation of fantasy
based on reality that
escapes the daily grind
of realism. A safe haven.
Away from prying eyes,
where I can become lost,
lost in you, lost with you.
I need a crack in the universe
to slip through, a black
hole designed purely for
me. I need a pocket of sand
where I can connect, at
ease, at peace, guilt free.
I want a dark lagoon where
I can explore the darkness
where I can watch and show
and take and be, a little
space for only me, a little
place where we can be.

Karen Hayward ©2105.

I wish your voice could penetrate my dreams.

I wish your voice was loud enough to penetrate my sleep and enter my dreams, it wouldn’t be the first time I had discovered you there and likely not the last. I wish that when I woke in the early morning that both my mind and body woke up simultaneously the moment they saw your approach. I wish I could put into writing what I can’t put into words. I wish I could be awake at the times when you need and want me and sleep all other times. I wish, wishes, were true. I could drop an old shiny penny into a well or close my eyes and wish upon a dying planet who’s light is slowly fading from sight. I could wish upon white feathers and double rainbows, I could wish upon you.

Karen Hayward ©2015.

Desire burns.

Like a whisper on the wind,
a delicate fantasy of sexual desire
that burns constantly in the distance.
The heated flames never far from mind,
the discovery of new erotic finds.
The desire tantalises the curious mind
with its broken edges
and shadows
left behind.