Horizons calling…

And all of my
yesterday’s made
my today,
horizon smeared
in the devils mist,
and still the sun
burns through
and verge edges
are promised,
and falling
is a must
I’m sure now
Oblivion can’t
be that deep
and rocks are
never as sharp
as we expect
and beyond that
veil, I can
finally derobe
this battered
armour
and let the sun
warm my skin…

Karen Hayward © 2018
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The gentle essence of sleep leaves me now
I stretch away the cold snake of winter
that crept beneath the blankets open mouth
and curled around my slumberous splinter.

I listen for a short second to birds,
they sing of merriment and joyous days
a perfect orchestra requiring no words
existing through the melody of play.

I watch a lone drop of water diving
happy, into a pool of ecstasy
sporadic tip taps and gleeful sightings
I pause and drink in this reality

Rising with cold still upon my tired skin
I pull on a soft, worn, cashmere jumper
embracing now soft pinks and floral prints
I am the hushed tones of succubus amber

I try to recall the day I became this new essence of femininity
and decide it was always there in haze,
Hiding behind my broken fantasies.

I sit by the open window and see,
sleep has left me free from worries, concerns
and in the silence the serenity nurtures me
And I am at peace listening to the birds

Karen Hayward ©2019

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Hidden within her burning heart

Photo

That’s where I want to be. In the center of that flaming heart of warmth. I want the suns embrace, her arms around me holding me tight and blocking out the darkness. I want to turn my back on the world for just a moment, to bathe in her love, for her energy to seep into my life force. I want to feel the flames burning in my blood. I just want the ride to stop whilst I catch up, I want to sleep warm and safe. I want to be in the center of that flaming heart.

Karen Hayward (©2015) Image and words

To Purge, to purge, to purge

Some people eat to purge
They devour platefuls of
Love, spoonfuls of hate
Bowls spilling with disgust.

Some, drink vodka, gin
Whiskey and bottled beer
Swigging back pain
Sipping on indifference.

For some, it is one more
run, sprinting back the tears
Curling the fears, stretching
the broken fragments clear.

I purge on the dark recesses
of my skull, pull away at
silver threads, devouring
memories made to break.

I lose myself in the silence
of melancholy let it swim
naked through my veins
Tearing me with each stroke.

I let each one fall, tasting the depth
of their essence, let it
ricochet through me in
forgotten undertones of being.

I purge myself through the
Lost memories of my ancient
voice, capturing them within
A moment, then release,
as my lungs breathe and my
eyes smart at the purging.

Karen Hayward ©2018

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Golden Rays

To sit among the golden rays,
feel the whispers of your
lips as they graze in
complete silence,
solitude of lovers ebbing as
the river flows.
Desire rising, need spilling
as mouths explore evening
constellations mapping
across bare skin.
Fingers trailing glowing
thoughts, growing passion
tongues entwined
bodies moving
As the river flows
As the sun dips down low
As night time comes and
evening goes
As forgotten love
begins to grow.

Karen Hayward ©2017

Image and words 

Slipping over skin…

Outlook.com - ckpmx3@hotmail.com

She slowly pulled the rouge
nylon across her bare toes,
Momentarily cold against
the warmth of her skin
Embracing the tenderness
of her foot,
Kissing the curve of her calf,
gently hugging the
roundness of her hips.

She slipped her feet through
the cotton skirt, pulled it
up and let it sit loosely across
her stomach. A short, sharp
twirl and she could feel
the fabric tickling across
her thighs. A smile.

She watched as the blue fabric
stretched and embraced
every curve, kissing bare skin
caressing crimson lace, licking
pert buds, warming winters freeze.

She paused at the mirrors edge,
what could her reflection tell her
that her heart could not, she thought
as she glanced again at the way
the rouge nylon kissed her legs.

Karen Hayward ©2017

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