Mother and daughter, in a single second.

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In a single second I have a thousand thoughts.

I visit a thousand places

and see a thousand faces.

I see a thousand sights,

my feet walk a thousand miles

and I see a thousand smiles.

I touch a thousand hearts

and see a thousand stars.

In a single second

I am everywhere but here.

Then in a single glance I see you,

and I know I have found home.

This home has no walls

and it has no floor.

This home is not a place

but a response to your face.

A journey, an honor placed upon me

and when I look upon your eyes I see my destiny.

And in the beating of our hearts i know;

that every path I took,

every darkness bestowed upon me,

every tear that fell,

was for you.

In a single second I am everywhere

but here,

in a single glance I am always near.

Karen Hayward ©2015. Image and words.

Scorpion’s cusp Sagittarian’s rise.

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Neither the centaur nor Scorpius.

The mythological bridge with a tail

that stings.

Both wanderers searching for truth.

Feed her sting with secrets so dark

and you’ll  fuel the archers love for life.

The Scorpian will regenerate to keep

control over her destiny whilst the Centuer

fights the hemmed in corner to regain

freedom. Either way she rises.

The King of Gods oversee’s her whilst

the King of War whispers in her ear and

the King of the Underworld takes her hand

and leads her into temptation. The Scorpius,

unafraid will walk away unscathed as the

Centaur chalk’s it up to exploration.

Let her breathe if you have been unfortunate

enough to cross her, or bow down and take

the angry words, for they will come as she

searches the deep waters of her captive emotions.

But beware the Centaur does not rise and lead

the way, the fire moves so quickly and those bows

can move so far.

She’ll flirt with you till passion bubbles motivated

by her desire to play. Remaining devoted

whilst the Centaur is mindful of her tongue.

Together they explore your mind. Between them

every dark corner of it.

Together they rarely leave without their chosen desire.

Scorpius will use her passion to manipulate your eyes

whilst the Archer sets up bow and the Centaur

captivates your mind.

Escape is futile, unless she changes her mind

which she is known to do.

Karen Hayward (copyright 2015)

Image shared via internet, could not find original owner or copyright…please correct me if you can!

 

Searching for my flowers.

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How can I write of beauty, when I am consumed with pain?

I cannot see the flowers, for I am drowning in the rain and

as my words fall to page, I want to swipe them back, and

still I am aware I am on my rightful track.

So I cannot see the beauty and I cannot feel the pleasure,

but believe me when I say, I am discovering what I treasure.

It’s not the easy path, it’s not the easy way,

but believe me, please, when I say,

I really am Okay.

The silence will not kill me it will not take my soul,

it’s the only way for me to reach my final goal.

You see, I really need to know, I really need to see,

what it is that makes, little old, pretty me.

So i’m searching in the rain, i’m searching through the storms,

looking for my flowers and avoiding deadly thorns.

Karen Hayward (Copyright) 2015.

Every Soul Seeks.

When darkness falls and the mist, rolls, in,

my thoughts become so clouded.

The dusk of days gone and past pull me

into a love crazed, haze.

Blinded by words not uttered,

love not told, in that moment of separation,

no return.

For life rolls on as the mist comes and goes.

It always will, you’ll never be,

more then a drifting thought of the

morning sun. I couldn’t ask,

I couldn’t take, I can only hope

I made the choice that’s right for you.

As darkness falls and the thoughts roll in

I close my eyes and travel the years

to the tender touch and arms wrapped tight

to a lioness kiss and blushing cheeks,

back to that moment,

that every soul seeks.

Long Gone.

Long gone are the days that turn into

the nights that turn in to the dawns.

With a tipple of choice and drunken slurred voice,

the air becomes chilled and slightly moist.

Long gone are the nights that I went with out rest;

the meat market trend of who looks the best,

those were the nights that I truly detest.

Long gone are the heels and the pretty short skirts,

and the constant worry of flirt or not flirt

as ogling men peered down my shirt.

Long gone are those days,

when i’d stay out late to play

closing my eyes where ever I lay.

Long gone are the days when I ran in that race,

people were lost without a trace

as they tried in vain to keep up the pace.

Long gone are the nights when my life was so lost,

when I risked everything each night not knowing the cost.

Long gone are those nights,

for I saw the light,

and it gave me a sight,

a reason to fight.

Long gone are those nights,

long gone is the fright.