Aside the listless waters edge

Aside the listless waters of time
reflections fractured now stilled
in stagnant whispers of bleak void
an endless stream of magic borne
wars fought and promises sworn.

I see the contours of my soul on waters edge
Shimmering beneath the debris of existence
Illuminated by my darkest light
It reaches from out the depths of hell
to sooth the speckled witches spell.

But alas, I am neither elemental nor
celestial,
nor am I sister to Lilith or a soldier of the dammed
I am the waters curve, the rippled playground
as dragonflies dance upon my skin
stealing precious nectar for their King.

I am the reflection the mirrored voice
the distant echo of ancient blood
essence skimming on luna tides
the silent eyes suffocating in vivid blues,
drowning in the scent of knowing truths

I am the fractured, stagnated waters
curdled by minds descent
I am the Illuminated body of tides
empowered for my ascent
I am the lucid astral plane
the love of which you dreamt
I am the reflection, rippled in pain
I am the reflection, owning my pain.

Karen Hayward ©2018

Image and words

Only the Ocean.

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At the oceans side I am but a heartbeat from you.

The ebbing tide whispers of my love in hushed

tones of an ancient lullaby and hope ignites within.

Gone are the miles that separate, now lays only

Poseidon’s kingdom and I am a child of the sea.

He grants me passage to you in wild day dreams

adorned with Lucid’s touch. The oceans breeze

carries your name to me, sea mist becomes the essence

that is you, as it swirls through my aura kissing

the flush of my cheek and I know in that moment

I have been kissed by love. No matter the grey

clouds for they will clear, the rain will purge old tears

collecting the grains of sand hurled through the

oceans storm,

until I am at your shore, stood at your feet

and sea mist shrouds us, as we are lost to

loves sweet embrace.

Karen Hayward ©2017

Amber and Blue.

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Amber and Blue

When you think of me before I do
When you think of me instead of you
my everything in a world untrue
You are the silver and the gold
The amber and blue
A crescendo of rhythm in my heart unfolds
the little things you do,
is the everything I hold.
From amber and blue
aura everlastingly bold
I can feel love’s brightest glow
Let the the notions of love
be the binding glue
in you i find the beauty
In all that you do
Vibrant and alive..
like amber and blue
I can only cherish the fates that made you mine
A flaming joy in crystalline time
You are the sparkle the starlight sublime
The gravity that holds me close to you.
the beauty of love in the amber and blue

(c) 2016 Michael J. Garland
(c) image Karen Hayward

More of Michael’s amazing poetry can be found on his Google plus page…

https://plus.google.com/+MichaelJamesGarland/posts

Among the soft silence.

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Can I live here? My aged soul

yearns for the quietude

of nature. Winds as they

whistle through reeds

as they move in

perfect fluidity,

ripples gently

dancing across water.

The soft hum of a Bee

the delicate echo of blue

skies, warm glow of summers

sun as he lavishes me in love.

Tell me dear, can we live here? Will

you give to me such beauty, such silence

will you grace my heart with a poetic life and

birds that chirp my song, flowers that bloom to my heart

tell me dearest, let us live in natures quietude,

can this be our path? Where waters flow,

ebb and stagnate and my druid soul

creates, in ancient callings

and darkness’s light,

tell me least,

we might.

Karen Hayward ©2016

(Image and words)

Dear God, do not place me upon that mountain.

Poem written in response to a picture prompt which can be found in this lovely g+ poetry community that I moderate in, feel free to come and read and join our growing community :). POET’s

Dear God,

Please hear now my whispers

as I plead for your assistance.

Give me the strength I

need for resistance.

The devil calls from the

mountain top,

her blind refusal?

or a game?

The devil in her guise,

just wont stop.

I beg you God.

Hear the pleas of my soul

Do not allow revenge my goal.

Do not place me upon that summit,

looking down on all those

that plummet,

I do not know what poison

swims among the unaware

that believes themselves so aware.

Or what blindness curses them so that

they do not care.

But disrespect is painted upon their every word

as they fly, believing they are free as a bird,

peering down from atop the mountain

the cries of a banshee the devil does sing.

Dear God,

Please, do not allow me to climb that range,

do not let the summit bless my soles,

as the devils mist penetrates my soul. God,

I beg you hear my pleas, keep me at

the foot among the humble and the free.

Karen Hayward ©2016

 

Time.

The universe doesn’t pass time in the moving of seconds,

Instead, the ascending and descending of life events.

First there is birth to the perfect parents. 

Not perfectly good or perfectly rich,

hell they might not even be perfectly hitched.

But for purpose sake, the bond is purposefully stitched. 

Or unstitched in some cases. 

At a soul level you’ll recognise their faces,

past lives leaves scars, freckles, tiny traces. 

Childhood happens, you might be rich you might be poor,

the universe keeps ticking never keeping score,

look around at the beauty, she only wants, that you want more. 

For some there is light, for some of us dark 

and as the grains of sand slip, we all walk a path,

Living becomes a story that leaves another mark. 

Till finally we learn there are lessons at hand, 

Life is a map only our souls know the plan,

from the moment of birth when Terra began.

They’ll be tears, they’ll be hurt and boy they’ll be pain, 

they’ll be days when we count seconds by the drops of grey rain,

and some of us sadly, will be driven insane. 

But alas time must trickle through the portals neck,

as we eat, pray, play, work and slumber in bed,

Till finally we wake, then we are led.

For each soul that wanders for each mind that grows, 

lessons are delivered knowledge is sown, 

and time passes by in a constant flow. 

Some of us lucky our lessons we learn, 

twin flames found at the very first turn. 

Some of us feel time, feel time, as each second burns, 

time hesitates, stammers and screams, 

we can’t figure out what the symbols mean, 

we can’t make sense of the time that has been. 

The universe doesn’t pass time in the beating of hands, 

time is explored through our souls and their plans, 

some paths we can’t and some paths we can. 
Karen Hayward ©2016

The whistled song death.

This is inspired from a picture prompt on g+ you can see it here, please feel free to come join the community if you yourself are a poet, or reader 🙂

 

Where have all the smiles gone?

Where lays now all the love?

A malady of life playing through

the streets, a melody of death

drumming to the beat.

Are vibrant golden hues enough

Oh where now lays all the love?

And where have all the smiles gone,

or do the Jays whistle their funeral song?

 

Karen Hayward ©2016