In the oceans mist, essence of ancient calling. 


And when i couldn’t

 reach the ocean

To tell you of my pain,

The ocean came to me

Whispering your name.

On wisps of salty mist

Kept promises, not a wish,

Curling round my soul

Eternal’s loving kiss.

There within the mist

My eternal’s loving kiss.
Karen Hayward ©2017

Image found on Pinterest


Oh glorious mist, take me home, take me home.


Oh glorious mist, like rich silken threads

pouring delicately through the streets

of a lost concrete horizon. Take me, weave

for me a cloak of such splendor my naked

form will sing to the heavens of divine pleasure.

Oh dear, glorious mist, your ocean scent

speaks of ancient home, my soul yearns

for your touch. Kiss me, with a thousand

tongues, atom for atom, seep within me

and search for the essence of my core.

Ensnare me, oh dear glorious mist, ensnare

me within your silken fingers. Tantalise my

porcelain skin, graze the sensitive skin upon

my neck, your gentle smoke wrapping around

my beating heart, beating for you,

for you,

for you.

Sea mist, my truest love, let me nestle deep

within the droplets of home, so I may hide

from the darkness that is life. Swathe me

in all that is sensual, let passion rise and

entwine, take me home,

dear glorious mist,

take me home.

Karen  Hayward ©2016

Image found on google search.


Sea mist, come tease me if you will.


Engulf me.
Take pleasure in
my porcelain skin,
your kisses give me
Engulf me,
take me from this
world plunge
me deep within
your heart of
majestical beauty.
Let my soul there reign.
Engulf me,
take me, I am yours.
I was always yours.
Take me home, dearest
sea mist I hear
the ancient calling,
take me home.

Karen Hayward ©2016

The pleasures of the past.

As the mornings sea mist swirls around my legs

curling around my hips caressing my breasts,

seeping deep inside my soul

whispering of secrets that only I know

I feel the distant echo

of every lovers touch, grow

as their kisses remain upon my lips,

their words scrawled across my skin

and their touch tantaslised out

by the snaking mist…

like a reminiscent wish

to feel again the pleasures of the past.

Karen Hayward ©2016