Hidden within her burning heart

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That’s where I want to be. In the center of that flaming heart of warmth. I want the suns embrace, her arms around me holding me tight and blocking out the darkness. I want to turn my back on the world for just a moment, to bathe in her love, for her energy to seep into my life force. I want to feel the flames burning in my blood. I just want the ride to stop whilst I catch up, I want to sleep warm and safe. I want to be in the center of that flaming heart.

Karen Hayward (©2015) Image and words

Creating my own Arcadia

The stark emptiness of a blank canvas 
unfurling before my eyes. A lush carpet 
of soft blades of fresh grass tickling
my senses as I explore bare foot around 
the confines of my existence. 
Will you walk there with me into the unknown? 
With a touch of my finger I will spread 
daisies across the horizon, white petals 
dancing gently in the breeze
as yellow faces search for Helios. 
Long gone are my dreams of crimson
petals that line the marble floor. 
The aged trees in their wisdom will bend 
their branches and form for us a bed, 
softened with moss from the woodland 
grounds and decorated with delicate 
star white petals, as the soft scent of 
Jasmine dances on the summer breeze. 
Will you lay at my side and let me map 
the contours of your body with a trail of 
gentle kisses shimmering in the golden 
sunlight that caresses our uninhibited 
bodies? And as I dance freely across 
this canvas of creation, rose bushes 
of every colour will bloom beneath 
the shadows of my foot prints, 
a floral dance floor for the twilight 
hours as Selene watches from the heavens
and creates a pool of tranquility in which 
for us to bathe, sprinkled delicately 
with her crystallized devotion.
And what beauty will you bring to my vision? 
Will you lay your palms upon the earth and 
create for me peahens and peacocks 
plumes of subtle beauty,
so I may see the beauty of his train 
as he calls to his love? Will you tread upon 
the luscious grass and leave behind 
a trail of promised dandelion wishes, 
for me? Will you look to the heavens and 
request shooting stars to illuminate our skies? 
Will you look to the clouds and ask for 
warm rain to fall from the skies so we may
dance together beneath the falling droplets? 
The stark emptiness of a blank canvas 
unfurling before our eyes in quartz promises
past scars long eschew. 

Karen Hayward ©2016 (2017 edited) Image via wordpress library

Ode to the plum tree I’ve stripped bare.

Image result for plum tree

Once upon an autumn day
Fell to earth a pit,
Most likely twas a sunny
Spot where children once
did sit.
Through winters love
The pit did freeze,
till out fell a tiny seed
that bloomed into
a lonesome tree
With luscious leaves
that grew so free.
And summers came and
Winters went,
through rain and hail
All weathers sent,
This little tree grew
Mighty strong
And truly it was
Not long, till sprouting
from out his branch
Was love so glorious
from his golden heart.
Emerald jewels
Of luscious green
This tree I often pondered
surely is but a dream!
I checked each day
with a lovers splendor
touched the gems
In search of tender.
Till there upon a
summer eve
Upon the floor
A gruesome thief
All battered flesh
ripped apart
I could see the
Cold stone of
My lovers heart.
I stopped and looked
And wondered should I?
Could I? How the hell
wouldn’t I! This gem
in royal plum,
rich and juicy
from the glory sun
I heard the tiny
supple split of twig,
A little turn did the trick.
A held this beauty
in my hand,
Felt the love from
Of this land,
Smelt the sweet
heaven scent,
then sunk my teeth
In the devils descent.
Tore at flesh of
darkest hue,
Addicted now I was to you.
Sweet tender juice
upon my lips
heaven sent this tender
kiss.
No leaves or jagged
branch apart
could keep me from
my one true heart.
I filled my pockets
and even my sleeves
I had to have them
all for keeps.
Till bare the tree now
does sit,
such beauty came
from that tiny pit.

Karen Hayward©2017
Image found via google search

Luscious greens

If these here lush green leaves could speak a word
they’d tell us perhaps, of the singing birds
of breaking dawn, autumn days, crisp air
and crunching blades, frozen grass, white as snow
hidden neath trees ageless bough in shadows
Yes, if those there leaves in morning glory
could tell a tale or two, they’d sing an ode
to nature’s red berries and brightest skies
of robins resting and crows feeding as 
Fat wet worms dangle from open beaks, and
Beneath endless skies of dancing blues
sun burns waking warm rays leaving a trail
of seasons blaze through days beginning
In gentle tones of vivid life and morning dew.

Karen Hayward © 2018
Image and words

Howling call of night…

I hear the howling winds they drag me from my slumber,
Trees screaming, leaves pleading, debris flying,
Rain falling, heavy, denting, slamming on windowpane,
Where now is Selene among this raging storm,
I search for calm and find only the descent of
crimson mist, I search for light… But the soul craves darkness
Which has long arrived, I search for hope but Pandora
was left astray, unlocked…
I hear the startling call of objects dragged through
the storms mouth, teeth bared, blood dripping,
I hear the emptiness of atoms
the raging storms of nature
the familiarity of night
sat alone, as insomnia
Kisses away the shadows
that haunt.

Karen Hayward ©2018

Image found via wordpress library 

The Rains Came

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The rains came
without warning the
skies darkened and the
air hung fresh as she caught
droplets of cool rain in her mouth
letting them slip between her
flush pink lips tasting them
against her tongue
as they nestled
between the strands
of her untamed hair racing
down her face, sliding down her
neck, teasingly wandering into the
curves of her chest. Searing skin
tingling at the new sensation
of cold beads, erecting need
and heaving sighs
of relief.

Karen Hayward ©2018 Image and words

Wake up sleeping soul

I’ve woken with autumn’s mist
embracing my skin, fine kisses
of pale skies and a distant sun.
My naked legs searching for
warmth amidst the days ascent
as Helios caresses me once more
his fingers tracing golden pathways
teasing living canvas into submission.
His ancient bind holds me captive
in forgotten memories now
surrendered, I let the mist curve across
my hip, along my torso caressing the
Hill of my breast as whispers to my
soul…wake up. Wake up.

Karen Hayward © 2018