In the chary depths of an Island of solace.


I wish to be an Island, lost far out at sea.

Swimming in solitude with no one to see.

I can’t echo thoughts etched upon scars

as darkness embraces a world full of stars.

I wish to be an Island, blind to their beauty

saved from the shadows cast by the beauties.

I can’t echo grace for you wont or you will

and if left unto me they’re all such a thrill.

I wish to be an Island, to which nothing compares

alone out at sea, so I cannot compare…

For grass that is softer, petals more scented

skies like the heavens and fantasies fated.

I wish to be an Island, lost far out at sea

a place in the silence where I cannot see.


Karen Hayward ©2017

Image and words





The map home. 

Tell me wandering soul, are you lost? Have you traipsed through the dark alleys of forever in the pouring rain searching the heavens for that single star that illuminates your heart? Are you lost? We are all lost. Thereare no stas to guide us only our inner thoughts. Make speed now, the storms are coming and when you are done screaming to the gods of yesteryear take comfort, for blue skies will follow and golden rays of sun will fall upon your soul warming your very core. And when alone walking through the valley of death ponder upon the fickleness of the heart, the fear of the mind, and the truth of your inner self, for when lost in darkness, your intuition is your house, your compass, your map home. 
Karen Hayward ©2016

To love to be whole.


To love, to be whole. To swim in the shallow waters of the divine in a lust filled lake of desire. To adore, to feel the essence of love upon your words and drink them in quenching the deep thirst, the need to love, not be loved.  To cherish the treasures of your being, the caught moments between the beating of times aging heart. To love, beyond the confines of physical need and know what my soul feels like.To know the shadows of intuition and the glaring streaks of butterfly dances as their wings scrape the surface of my heart sending it into rapid flutter. Oh to know love upon my mind, as the world becomes a treasured find. Now all darkness is dispelled to the confines of some great abyss that longer is a destination within me that exists.


Karen Hayward ©2016

I dreamt about a Bee.


I dreamt about a bee,
buzzing at my feet,
All the gates were locked
I was feeling kinda beat.
I dreamt about a house,
empty yet a home,
I felt a little nervous
as I ventured it alone.
I dreamt about the sky
empty yet so full,
I tried the gates again
Both pushing, and pull.
I took a single breath
and calmed my fearsome thoughts,
the buzzing bee whispered
This is what you sought’.
I dreamt about a key,
that appeared inside my hand
to open all the gates
to this unexpected land.

Karen Hayward ©2016

It is the triangle that calls my name.

We search the soulless faces for a flicker of recognition.

Glaring into empty eyes, lips twitching we watch in anaticipation

Listening to the unsung words of their soul as their lips move

and their voice echos past us, a melody perfectly played.

But the tune is empty like the empty faces and empty voices

in this lonesome over crowded world of ours. So we search

unconsciously, ears prickling for the sound of cymbals being

harmoniously crashed together. All we hear is the high pitched

twang of the triangle, we keep moving, forever moving, the

triangles sound ringing in our ears as we walk past them..their

eyes speak of no secrets shared and their voice is a whisper

in the crowds, we walk past them, searching for the cymbals

when it is the triangle that calls.


Karen Hayward ©2016