Caught in the gnarled teeth of my terrors

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Caught between two planes of existence,
slumbers promise a far of lie,
lost within the realms of my dreams
all fingers, eyes, smiles and presence,
held captive within your essence
as spectres draw me from my sleep
fingers cold dragging, pulling
gasping as touch becomes real
and I am awake, in the darkness
of eternity,
caught between the two planes of existence,
again and again and again
you are there, waiting for me to dream….
again and again and again
they are there waiting to pull me from my love.

Karen Hayward ©2018 Image found on Pinterest

Sleeping wonder

It weaves across my skin
leaving a trail of goosebumps
runs its fingers through my hair
and dives deep within my dreams
Tugging at me, a low buzz pulling
at me, a cold vibration caressing me,
trapping me between worlds
slumber a hopeless dream in the
corner room, with its magnificent
essence of beauty by day… And
its unseen shadows at night.

Karen Hayward ©2018

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Whimsical promises…

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I sit beneath the cherry blossom, sun soft against my skin the breeze dancing through my hair and the blue sky above watching me. Eye’s closed I listen to the earth, her song as she skips past dancing through atoms. Around me forms a serene calm, a melody of candy floss pink and budding greens.

I am reminded through the implosion of fragrant rose petal that I am alive, reminded through the explosion of Purple lavender buds that I breathe, reminded through the soft silk cherry blossom that I am one with the universe.

Around the me the world is consumed by distractions, the cars busying to their next destination, the man walking beside his Dog, one day dreams of a game of catch, the other thinks only of home. The rustling bags filled with treats and tinkling of coins as bells ring in triumph of debts collected. Even the clouds rush by, no where to go and no reason to stay.

I close my eyes, lose myself in the echoes of childhood dreams, fairy tales and fantasies still to be discovered…

Karen Hayward © 2018

Image and words

8:05 Dawn 

For a moment
I forget to breathe
My body is stilled
beyond sight
Dreams whisper,
reality screams
darkness floods
the thin veil
suffocating
weight,
fighting,
voice stolen
breaking,
nothing
Illusion, delusion,
breathing.
Waking…

red numbers
tell me tonight
is lost, four more
hours till dawn
I count the
stars I cannot
find Selene.

Karen Hayward ©2017

Image found in pinterest. 

When dreams whisper. . .

This imaginative homeowner made good use of some unused space in​ his Kennebunk, Maine attic. Creating a library/study using old furniture, simple bookshelves, oriental rugs and other items to make this space a cozy and interesting place to read or just hang out and relax. Sometimes it doesn't take much, just a little creativity.

In the ancient whispers of
our dreams, our soul resides.
Lingering, ready to step forth
and penetrate our deepest
slumber. I dreamed of this
room time and night again.
The wall, a colourful rainbow
of spines, old and new, new
and old. Torn corners, bent
pages, faded covers, creased
titles, dust particles danced
in the flames flicker. The desk,
an array of chaotic energy,
pens, pencils, oh yes, the pencils,
and paper, sheets and scraps
notebooks and journals.
I dreamed of this room time
and night again. The attic
that time forgot, secret nooks
cubby holes, Narnia doors.
A wise man once told me
take heed, the soul resides
within our dream. All I could do
was jump, turn away, create
a new path, hope on a blind
man’s sight…

and so it is I find myself here,
now, with ink stained fingers,
a collection of pencils and
scraps of paper covered in
beauty, and so it is I changed
my path, turned toward this light,
I no longer dream of this room,
In again, time or night, for I
heard when my soul whispered
turn now into the light.

Karen Hayward ©2017

Image found on pinterest

I dream of a sand filled setting sun.

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Sun kissed skin,

eyes that sparkle blue

a hint of sun shimmering

on sea salt curls.

watching the setting sun.

Rays of golden heat traipsing

across my bare shoulder,

dancing through damp hair.

Sand covered legs,

shorts almost dry

skin prickling from the days heat.

Beside me, you.

As the sun drops from the skies,

the one that sees what I feel.

Karen Hayward ©2017

Image and words

Freddy and Jason.

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Covered in blood I search for the light

as my dreams come alive in the dead of the night.

I feel his sharp nails as he claws at my skin

the veil between sleep is so very thin.

But Fred’s not alone, Jason’s, there too,

and I know in an instant my nightmares are true.

There’s no where to hide there’s no where to go,

covered in blood it’s a dream, oh I know.

But the nails are real, and Jason still comes,

and i’m losing my life as I try to out run.

A small little nick on my porcelain skin,

Freddy is dancing as the knife slips in.

They laugh as they pull gut after limb,

Tearing it out, pushing it in.

An ebbing death for fear to bring.

Karen Hayward ©2017.

Image found on pinterest.