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
deep beneath covers
fresh from slumber
tiny flakes falling
I see the snow Queen
has left a a trail of
winters love, soft
tender flakes settled
between a distant
hoot and the warm
mirth of spring.
Karen Hayward ©2018
Image from wordpress library
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
Do you hear my morning birds?
Singing soft songs on springs breeze.
Listen as their tune travels across leaves.
Sun yet to rise cloud fills the skies,
Do they sing of love? Or whispered goodbyes.
KH*2017
Image found on Pinterest.
Morning caresses me awake,
Golden sunlight kissing bare skin,
Skies of flaming passion
Embrace my sight,
The mornings promise bids
Farewell to my night.
Karen Hayward *©2017
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)
Cool moist air caressing my
shoulders beneath hazy skies
of blue with yellow hue.
Karen Hayward ©2016
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
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
The morning sun is skipping through my veins,
blue skies are begging my soul to dance.
The warm breeze is wandering beside me,
The hint of summer is breathing fire into my spirit….or perhaps it is you
Karen Hayward ©2016
blossomsworld 