Purple catalyst of hope…

My purple catalyst of hope
In Pandora’s world without
the box… As I stood on the
verge of distraction yesteryear
a memory beneath melancholy
clouds, you were the fork
my purple delights the faintest
whisper of the girl I was, creeping
among the now catapulting
me into tomorrow. How many
puddles have we dived Into
my dearest? How many showers
have cleansed away my tears?
There through rain and sun
Sand and thunder, high winds
and autumn leaves. Through
train rides and doctors you
never left my side, never even
broke a lace yet now my
heart breaks for the days
without you. How much
of my soul is ingrained
within toe scuffs and etched
paint. And with you
Into the great abyss I send the
secrets of my heart
the shame of my soul
between the cracks of my sole.
My love, my dearest,
never a day will pass without
a moments silence
for my you, my purple delights.

Karen Hayward ©2017

A Glimpse at the Ride.

img_20170118_142636.jpg

Some people come into our lives forever,
Some just so we may catch aglimpse of our soul.
They put us on the right path,
They’re a beacon of light on the darkest nights.
They show us the dreams that we do not see.

They say we walk the earth with the very same souls.
Each life, Each time, repeating a pattern,
repeating a crime. With each familiar echo
our soul connects. Sometimes with laughter,
sometimes with kindness, sometimes with love and
sometimes the knowledge of having it tough.

And in among the de ja vu
you discover the missing piece of you.
The mirror reflection; bits gone,
without detection. An image of your dreams
your heart, your soul. Everything new but everything,
you already knew.

The twin flame doesn’t bring Love, lust,
or salvation. A twin flame whispers in your ear,
that they are always near. No matter how far,
even the furthest star. They show you your path.
They are love that is unseen, they are the reason you dream.
They are not the missing piece, of your soul, they
are you. And they always knew, as did you.

They are the fire in your flame, listen
as they whisper your name.
They are the light that leads you into the night.
They are not the love that fills your thoughts,
they are the breath that gets caught.
Throughout our days, they say,
that our souls will meet, and filled with
heat, we will know.

Some will grow old, along by our side,
Some come along, for a glimpse at the ride,
some of them unknown,
away they do hide.
All of them
here for a moment
at our sides.

Karen Hayward (Copyright) 2015.

Image and words

Candy floss soul… 

… And as the pale sun burned fiercely through wandering thoughts she tucked away the delicacies of her soul, ran her fingers through blush pink silken threads, muted green satin bows, gently stroked rich purple velvet and pressed delicate feathers to her lips. She closed Pandoras chest, not turning the key. Her secret? Beyond titanium lays the intricate threads of a candy floss soul. Rays of sun upon deep breaths tickling her tongue, she knew, with trust must come vulnerability… And as the pale sun burned fiercely through wandering thoughts she left the chest open,
knowing it was time…

Karen Hayward ©2017

Image found on pinterest. 

How many soul mates have kissed your lips 

#positivelyprompted (The dream scene)
Art by Miro Hirano

How many souls have intimately
known your touch as you searched
through the faces for the Queen to
your thrown?

How many seeds of lust abandoned
on the summer breeze that held you
captivated momentarily.

How many wishes, counted, whispered
and forgotten so we could travel
this path untrodden.

How many I wonder, seedling soul mates fell short at our feet as we tried in vain to hear the whispers of an ancient memory.

How many soul mates have touched our lips as we searched through the universe for a true loves wish, as we searched through lovers for each other’s kiss.

Karen Hayward ©2017

What if…

This was my first ever poem on my blog back in September 2012, I was in my fifth year of study toward my English degree and about to embark on the creative writing and advanced creative writing modules and we were advised we needed writing outlet such as a blog……hmmm…that’s where I became a poet .

celstialtears

What if…

What if karma, destiny and fate are all fake desires dressed up in the giuse of hope, but what if they are not.

What if our paths were always destined, our distance mapped out in the stars that guide us.

What if I am simply a good memory among so many bad ones, a memory designed to offer you hope.

What if that was always to be my purpose.

What if things had been different, I had been stronger, fought for my love, stood tall and confident, demanded to be seen and heard…would things be different?

What if all along, we were just meant to play cards in that old, battered, Black and White house.

What if that was our destiny.

Karen Hayward ©2012

Image found on pinterest

So you sooth…

redhairwings

Attentive thoughts,

history becomes a shadow

snaking forth upon the tip of my tongue

and I am consumed with doubt.

My page the moonless skies,

my pen a rusting dagger

crimson ink pools,

spilling from

my canvas.

So you sooth,

whisper, caress and cocoon.

So you declare and pull me from the

shadows, words like token kisses from the moon,

intentional stance,

is that pride I hear as you pull me near!

Karen Hayward ©2017

Image found on Pinterest