Fairy-tales do not exist

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Fairy tales do not exist
and cupids arrow will always miss.
The evil queen will always win
and every girl is filled with sin.

There’s no golden fleece to protect us all
no fairy godmother to stop your fall.
The birds don’t clean and cats don’t talk
and there’s no such thing as the perfect walk.

There’s no bread crumbs to find your way
and no fire breathing dragon for you to slay.
Hearts are real and cannibalism does exist
and there’s no such thing as the perfect kiss.

The emerald city and the world of oz are just a dream
and yes, people really are that mean.
Parlour tricks and a clever tongue
and no the spell won’t break with the morning sun.

Fairy tales do not exist
but I think I might
just take that risk.

Karen Hayward ©2015. Image downloaded via google

I envy them, him, their love has a pureness seen only in the final pages of old dusty fairytale books, each kiss I believe renders them immortal, spells dispersed and magic created in the enchanted presence of such a love as theirs.
Such a simple existence, a moments kiss and passion fills their auras spilling outward, exploding into the melancholy day and yet, a kiss filled with so much desire and not an iota of indecency, as though they are God’s angels, as though their love is blessed by the heavens and coveted in white feathers. They speak with their eyes, knowing glances that say, ‘ill be back soon my love, but in these seconds without you, know only this, I exist for you, for you.’ I envy them, him, her, I envy them.

Karen Hayward ©2018
Image and words

This is an observational poem on a couple I see almost daily, in the latter part of their lives now they still love each other with a pure depth, she stands at the gate waving till he’s at the end of the road, where he gives her one last wave before he turns the corner… It’s a beautiful thing to watch.

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The fairytales are the cage

The seconds ascend
across the broken
scent of bleach,
swept debris
And forgotten cutlery
wedged between
reality and
fantasy. Caged in
the realm of
fairytale, no
Bird sings here, no mice
no pumpkin carriage.
The fairies Godmother
has long vanished
into the ethereal
taking with her
the Ill fitting glass
slippers. And so it
is I sit here bare foot
as the seconds ascend.

Karen Hayward ©2017

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Mercury encrusted stutter

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Between the seconds,
minutes and hours
times kinetic swing
slows to a
snails pace at twilight,
it is then I know
with a blind man’s
certainty that
I am fallen like
Alice, tumbling
for her fantasies
It’s deep within
my sacral
yet deeper in my soul
I tried to dust you off
smooth away your
scent but only
managed to submerge
myself further
in your essence
Have I told you
of the synchroniscities?
No, of course I haven’t.
The problem with equality
is the dispersal of power,
I’m afraid I wouldn’t
be so pretty with my
soul crushed into
fine powder blowing
in times wind
to desolate islands
of despair.
Isn’t that always
the problem when
you discover you care?
Intrigue gages the
tip toeing of my
splintered thoughts
across creaky floorboards
I am the wisp,
the wisp of chaos,
calm, energy, need and
perhaps love,
I was always afraid
you’d know what to do…
now isn’t that the truth.

Karen Hayward ©2018
Image and words

Mirror mirror … Tell me am i fairest of all men? 

Just a little fun. 

Mirror mirror on the wall

Who’s the fairest of them all…

Why darling one twas true a time

When you oh Lord was so devine. 

But now it seems there is a line! 

Tis suitors at every door, you would 

Know but you look no more,

For you are stagnant on foreign shores. 

Mirror mirror on the wall

Am i headed for my greatest fall? 

Tis true, oh lord devine 

Your love, she is far from blind. 

Perhaps, I haste to say, not all is said 

When thoughts are shared, 

She ponders for whom you care. 

Oh mirror mirror on the wall….

So I’m not the fairest of them all? 
Karen Hayward ©2016

White knight in shining armor.

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A wondrous sight from afar, knight in white

and shining Armour, upon your guard

nothing may harm her. Defensive stance

take aim, may no other whisper

your damsels name. Cocooned hands

of strength willing to walk the desired

length. Beauty radiant for all to see,

you place her high within life’s tree. Such

honor she has earned at your hands, willing, you

are to cut down any man. The knight,

in shining white armor, protecting his love,

so nothing can harm her.

Watching from afar beneath the embrace of

a lovers star.

Flames of hair cross my face, white flames of light

illuminate the night skies. Diamond sparks,

topaz illuminations and jacinth flames

of dragons breath, I see with perfect breadth.

As Excalibur glides from ancient slumber

this blade alone is my true encumber.

Where once I wished for a knight in shining armour

to knock about my door,

Wisdom whispers, stand alone, and wish no more.

Excalibur is my true protector, white knight

fight on and protect her, I am born from

dragons breath with fire in my core, and for a

White knight in shining armor, I shall surely

wish no more.

Karen Hayward ©2016

Image can be found on Pinterest