Most mornings
I watch
as Helios wakes,
His flames
burn brightest
at nights end,
at days beginning.
A beacon of light,
of warmth,
of beauty,
calling the birds to chirp
the leaves to glisten
petals to unfurl
even the silence
sings his blessings
and my day begins
sprinkled in his
essence.

Karen Hayward ©2018
Image and words

Photo

Embrace the last of your sleep that lingers

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As your alarm rings,
I would reach out
my hand to your skin,
grasp at your fingers,
embrace the last of
your sleep that lingers.
I would swallow down
my souls tug and use a
smile to hide my frown.
My lips would eagerly
devour the warmth of your
essence, kissing, greedily
the canvas of your form.
I’d curse the shortness of night
and the coming of morn.
I’d search the depth of your eyes
for a moment’s need sustained,
love spilling as the endless skies
passion radiating, desire burning
alarm ringing, bodies entwining,
souls yearning, I’d kiss you,
good morning.

Karen Hayward (c) 2017
Image and words

Morning Dawn, she rises.

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Morning dawn drives on,

rising slowly from its heavenly bed.

Spilling gold dust

sparingly across her tired face.

True beauty radiating for all to see.

Eyes like piercing arrows

searching for the new day,

Red, hot,  fire burning tentatively

in the morning sun.

Karen Hayward ©Sept 2012 (edited 2017)