What now of lovers forgotten stem
that roots me to the essence of them
On kisses brow,
Not a second wasted, but now.
For is our bond not of rarest gem?
What lingering thoughts
a constance in my battleground mind
Yet, in peace and calm in you they find.
A lovers map of fate
destined paths leading, winding, twirling
through the undergrowth of survival
Till upon a greying day
stems become vines
and the universe whispers
that you are truly
Karen Hayward ©2017 image and words
Kiss me with lips so tender and passion so wild.
Here beneath falling flakes in an echo-less
moment of divine beauty. Kiss me, on ancient
grounds, feel the essence of ancestors,
feel the whispers of our druid sisters as they
chant an incantation of love upon winters breeze.
A promise of springs new born breath blossoming
within our hearts. Kiss me,
kiss me with passions embrace, with a joyous love
celestial in nature transcendent in beliefs listen
beyond our realm to the beat of a folktale long ago told
of fairies wings and glittered dust of finest diamonds
sprinkled upon the young at heart and old of soul.
Oh kiss me, here beneath falling snow, oh kiss me,
dear love, kiss me.
Karen Hayward ©2016 (Image and words)