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.


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