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

Darkest Light.

Photo
Darkest Light

Consuming
and all drowning
my essence of night.
Deepest blue,
darkest burgundy,
it matters not,
my essence is cloaked
in this state, this void.
Think not of my night
and my aura as negative
for a dark state
can be a canvas.
A blank page for
something bright
to create. . .something
bright to form
my nights’ sky
and give it character.
and make it
come alive.

Yet it should consume me.
Darkness such as the night sky
should devour me, swallowing
my essence into oblivion.
Do you see me?
I am a mere whisper
of light lost in the echos of time. Yet,
when you lay me upon
your dark essence,
your canvas
becomes my art.
Your depth is my contrast.
I tip toe through your darkest blues
leaving illuminated kisses.
My essence, glimmers and glistens
upon your touch, for my light. . .
is love,
created by your darkness.

Words & Image
©5-2017 Locthiese/Karen Hayward

Check out more work crafted by the multi-talented Loc Thiese by clicking here.

I fell between the cracks…

lighttree

I fell between the cracks, landed gently in your palm.

 Look at me.

I blossom within your touch,

my petals flush deep pink.

Your essence is nourishment to my soul,

I burst into colour upon your touch,

my fragrance disperses upon the breeze

at your tease

and I am free.

My muse?

Perhaps, but perhaps…more…

such a term seems irrelevant to your

enchantment upon me.

The epitome of inspiration,

your existence dances crimson red through my mind ,

 fire burns within this poet to delve into realm of belief ,

 fly naked upon the wings of Icarus.

I hear the rattle of forlorn warnings, don’t fly too high

don’t fly too low,

but I am at one with his spirit and we soar into skies of blue.

Tell me please the spell in which you have cast upon my spirit,

how is it so that I can feel peace within?

A gentle calm caressing …Me.

So many questions I am lost within your touch

the world has become a quiet lullaby

I hear only your voice and my whispers

as we synchronize across the atoms of time.

I wish to fly,

to become my existence,

to no longer linger in shadows…To see if only for a moment,

pride within your eyes.

The skies are again blue and I search for golden rays,

my eyes fall forever on you,

searching always for their dark embrace and silent caress.

Muse?

More than a muse,

you have woken the poet within,

you have woken my spirit with your delicate touch and affectionate love.

I am yours,

I have fallen between the cracks and landed gently in your palm.

My petals peel away,

my colour becomes vibrant,

my fragrance enriched,

I bloom at your touch,

my blossom is yours,

you are the gentle breeze that calms my soul,

you are the fire that sets me free,

oh hell, tell me please what have you done to me!

Karen Hayward ©2017

Image found on pinterest.

Te amo.

*word of the day…Te amo…I love you.

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Te amo? Why of course, cursed presence the
distant echo of discord, fight or flight
to the corner I was forced. I pondered
broken thoughts disillusioned I fell hoarse.
Te amo? Utter disgrace, speak English.
Respectively you ask, my quaint anger
your passion fueled voice, assurances
that roots spoken, true essence…Te amo,
my love, calm waters among ebbing tides
Te amo? chaotic swirl, tragic tales
Shakespeare’s quill, ink dipped the heroine
in storms of fractured love and life’s repose,
Te amo? Such depth of understanding,
hindsight, patient echos, those stormy days.

Karen Hayward ©2017

I will write again today…

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I will write again today.

I will write every day,

I will write myself through

the dark shadows,

I will write until my

pen runs dry and my page

is a chaotic constellation

of creation.

I will write myself free.

I will write till I become

what it is you see in me….

I will write again today.

Karen Hayward ©2017

(Image and words)

Spring Seemed the Day When Love Came to Play

(By Michael J.Garland and Karen Hayward)
mikeocean
My muse, my love,
I give to you the very soul
of my ink and the lifeblood
of my page.
Recto, verso…this blank canvas
is yours,
is mine,
is ours. Let us spill raw beauty upon the
cascading new horizons that befall us.

Our canvas splashed
with a riot of color.
We have a love to weather the hours.
A deepening beautiful,
Fated begins.
My love,
your love,
our love,
sit with me close ,
make love with our pens.
A lifetime of mornings to start it again,
is yours,
is mine,
is ours.
Spring seemed the day when love came to play.

Michael J. Garland ©2017
Karen Hayward ©2017
Michael J.Garland ©2017 Image.