Sometimes I sing your tune…

Black and White house, number sixteen,

what were you doing deep in my dream?

What wisdom do you deliver in those deep

brown eyes,

perhaps so I might ponder the reason I try.

You see that, right?

Perhaps you were my lesson learned,

regret created and thoroughly earned.

Or perhaps…to show me the truth

that my choice was right, your smile the proof.

You are the benchmark I use to decide

what i’m willing to lose on this lovers ride.

For it’s kinda the same, except this time I fight.

Remember the song? You always saw my light

whispering still that I stand up to the night.

I guess I can see why my mind  set on you

a reminder maybe of days that were blue,

regret, karma, wrong paths walked

so many thoughts never talked.

You made me promise i’d step out from the dark

follow a new road my unknown path.

I couldn’t see it but you surely did,

years ahead you told me,

that’s where your Cleopatra

was hid.

Alas, we no longer talk,

I angered you when I finally walked,

I severed a tie that transcended the earth

tore a hole in your universe.

Oh but the lessons you taught

perhaps this is why in my dreams you were caught.

Love with pride,

never let it hide,

there is no wrong only right.

Regret. Love is always worth the fight.

Perhaps this is why in my dreams I caught sight

as I pondered life after the flight.

Karen Hayward ©2016

A Glimpse at the Ride.

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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

Ignorance sure ain’t bliss. 

If truth be spoken and lies erased 

Life forsaken, spirit raised.

Then ponder me for just a mo,

Let’s sit and watch the peacock show. 

And when all is done, left alone, 

Sat upon your empty throne,

I ponder then do they know,

Who will love you when they go. 

For carry then their tainted mind

Transcendence they will not find.

Ignorance is sure not bliss

We are not forgiven when gone amiss.  

Karen Hayward ©2016

Image and words. 

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 .

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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