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

Karen Hayward ©2018
Image and words


Embrace the last of your sleep that lingers


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 bird song. 

I hear now the soft whisper of bird song echoing in mornings delight.a gentle breeze carrying a perfect melody for me to hear. For a moment I feel peace, if I close my eyes I am anywhere, I am there with you we are listening to the faint song of as the sun rises from his bed and a new day begins. 
Karen Hayward ©2016

Beat of an angry sky.

The skies echo with the beat of far off anger,
perhaps out at sea,
or over the depths of beyond.
The gulls squawk into the darkness,
coming inland to find shelter.
Early morning cars take the corner
leaving this dismal town behind them.
The sun’s ascent is merely an hour off,
and the skies lighten at his bidding,
the heavens remain dark,
the angels leave me numbers.
And hunger.

Karen Hayward ©2016