Let’s elope…

Baby, please, let’s be reckless for the night,
We’ll elope in darkness
Just me and you,
hang our entire futures intentions
upon those first kisses,
carve our initials
into all of our promised tomorrow’s.

Let’s be reckless for the night,
run away
as ancient forgotten lovers once did
we’ll walk beneath the moon’s
pearlescent light
moist sea mist clinging to our naked skin
and soothe the deep ache of our ageing souls,
we’ll sip on red wine from crystal glasses,
and create a melodious symphony
within the orchestra of our existence.

Let’s be reckless for the night and steal love,
borrow tokens of time to be spent now,
and paid in kisses of relentless need
that rises at the sound of each others voice,
let’s drown ourselves in a moments passion
creating memories from fantasies…

Let’s be reckless…

Karen Hayward ©2019

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Would you fry the eggs?
Would you kiss me soft,
and hard when required?
Would you feed me books,
would you allow me
stupidity, verbally,
… let’s call it daftness,
so I can learn?
Would you pull a blanket
over my shoulders as
I sleep?
Would you make my
favourite dinner when
I am sad, when I am happy,
when I am grateful, when
I am needful?
Would you leave me
be to watch old movies,
The Wizard of Oz
and contemporary
remakes,
would you let me talk?
Would you let me keep
my socks on?
No? Would you promise
to keep me warm?
Would you be the man?
The protector? For I am
tired of that role,
Would you let me be the
lady, meek and mild,
soft and gentle,
Would you let me be
the nurturer?
Would you stand at
my side when I am
the lion, fierce and
protective, would you
stay at my side
proudly then?
Would you let me
love you?
In all my abandoned
states of intensity,
passion and raw
quirkiness…
Would you let me love you?

Karen Hayward ©2018
Image and words

The gentle essence of sleep leaves me now
I stretch away the cold snake of winter
that crept beneath the blankets open mouth
and curled around my slumberous splinter.

I listen for a short second to birds,
they sing of merriment and joyous days
a perfect orchestra requiring no words
existing through the melody of play.

I watch a lone drop of water diving
happy, into a pool of ecstasy
sporadic tip taps and gleeful sightings
I pause and drink in this reality

Rising with cold still upon my tired skin
I pull on a soft, worn, cashmere jumper
embracing now soft pinks and floral prints
I am the hushed tones of succubus amber

I try to recall the day I became this new essence of femininity
and decide it was always there in haze,
Hiding behind my broken fantasies.

I sit by the open window and see,
sleep has left me free from worries, concerns
and in the silence the serenity nurtures me
And I am at peace listening to the birds

Karen Hayward ©2019

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Stop the endless search for purity

If only they would stop searching the endless paths of

hopeless fools that dominate the green green grass

of earth. If they could just stop looking to appease the

lost souls of the blind clones and their followers, they

could be free. They could strip away the insecurities

of an unstable society and walk the balance beam of chaos,

one foot in front of the other as their soul flies on ahead

to clear the way. If for a moment they could shake away

their prudish thoughts, let passion enter their minds, brush

away the dirt of a gentleman’s rule, they could know ecstasy.

The creeping wave that floods through the perfectly tuned body;

inhibitions left at the door, clothes strewn across the floor,

desire in the fingertips of fire, passion no longer

denied as the flames burn inside.

If only they could walk this path, leave behind the sins of

the clueless few who fear the strong. So much fear for the other side,

for those that walk bare skinned without sin beneath a veil

of devilish fun with tantalizing tales of lust, stories of trust

and moments in time of naked bodies never meant to

be mine. Alas, the path is their choosing all mottled in grey

always concerned for the place where they lay.

Karen Hayward ©2015

The hidden vortex

Photo

A vortex that sits hidden in the shadows in that tiny pocket of time between my dawn and your high moon. Your world silenced by the darkness, engulfed in the night. Only lovers or thieves can be found in this twilight hour as my sun reaches her fingers into the sky, thieves scuttle home and lovers collapse into each others arms. This is the moment when time pauses. A vortex in the shadows where we should meet. Defeat as emptiness takes hold and you close your eyes beneath an illuminated sky, defeat as the suns rays sprinkle into my world. The emptiness of a black hole of time, where the grains continue to fall, slowly, each grain a lifetime of need.

Karen Hayward 2015 © Image and words

Feel me as I become the waves…

Photo

Feel not the strength of my force
but the depth of my passion.
Feel me as I pull you under
the air pulled from your lungs
as I circle your body.
Feel me as you sink further in,
your eye’s lost in mine as I create a cyclone of desire.
Feel me as I devour your soul in one single wave of ecstasy.
Feel me as I wrap myself around your body,
feel me as excitement builds,
Feel me as my energy rises,
Fell me as my strength recovers,
Feel me as I explode against you in orgasmic rush.
Feel the depth of my passion as I pull you under.

Karen Hayward. 2015© Image and words.