See what they see…

He stroked tangles into her once luscious mane,
and peppered it in the muted hues of time.
He smoothed the years across her brow
and etched his hate
within her blunt laughter lines.
He left a thesis of his dysfunction written between the grains of her invalid groin
and ringed the spoils of her scars in red ink.
He left her skin bare of kisses, of love,
of exploration or pleasure
he tamed the primal beast
he groomed her into silence
then gave her a mirror
and said…

See? Then grinned menacingly.

He stroked tangles into her once luscious mane…

Karen Hayward © 2019

Image via Google search.

Let’s elope…

Baby, please, let’s be reckless for the night,
We’ll elope in darkness
Just me and you,
hang our entire futures intentions
upon those first kisses,
carve our initials
into all of our promised tomorrow’s.

Let’s be reckless for the night,
run away
as ancient forgotten lovers once did
we’ll walk beneath the moon’s
pearlescent light
moist sea mist clinging to our naked skin
and soothe the deep ache of our ageing souls,
we’ll sip on red wine from crystal glasses,
and create a melodious symphony
within the orchestra of our existence.

Let’s be reckless for the night and steal love,
borrow tokens of time to be spent now,
and paid in kisses of relentless need
that rises at the sound of each others voice,
let’s drown ourselves in a moments passion
creating memories from fantasies…

Let’s be reckless…

Karen Hayward ©2019

Image via wordpress library

Would you fry the eggs?
Would you kiss me soft,
and hard when required?
Would you feed me books,
would you allow me
stupidity, verbally,
… let’s call it daftness,
so I can learn?
Would you pull a blanket
over my shoulders as
I sleep?
Would you make my
favourite dinner when
I am sad, when I am happy,
when I am grateful, when
I am needful?
Would you leave me
be to watch old movies,
The Wizard of Oz
and contemporary
remakes,
would you let me talk?
Would you let me keep
my socks on?
No? Would you promise
to keep me warm?
Would you be the man?
The protector? For I am
tired of that role,
Would you let me be the
lady, meek and mild,
soft and gentle,
Would you let me be
the nurturer?
Would you stand at
my side when I am
the lion, fierce and
protective, would you
stay at my side
proudly then?
Would you let me
love you?
In all my abandoned
states of intensity,
passion and raw
quirkiness…
Would you let me love you?

Karen Hayward ©2018
Image and words

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
Image found via wordpress library

Restless toes.

I am restless, the sea calls out to me
like a mother calling
her child and
I am burdened to answer my souls call.

I am restless craving the gentle ebb
of a silent tide creeping across sand
lulling toxic thoughts, offering lifes answers.

I am restless, my toes search for soft grains
my fingers yearn for his cold icy touch
my eyes need it’s endless horizon of hope.

I am restless, the sea calls out to me
on salty fog and the gulls crying song
and I am burdened to answer it’s call.

Karen Hayward © 2018
Image and words

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

Image via wordpress library