I close my eyes tight.

Abandoning my sight.

Hand pressed against my eye,

tears streaming, I try not to cry.

A small whimper escapes my lips,

As I move, and hop, and wiggle my hips.

The coldness soothes. No stinging now.

As I press the flannel against my brow.

The shampoo washes away,

Never in the eye again, I pray!

Karen Hayward ©2013 -Edited Image and words

Goodbye no Reason why.

No goodbye, no reason why.
No sorry and no lies,
No goodbye, no reason why.

History once again,
prevails its weakened soul.
So much forgiveness,
but the end is nye.

No goodbye, no reason why.
No sorry and no lies.
No goodbye, no reason why.

So undeserving of the truth
you offer silence instead.
When true words would
sooth a broken heart.

No goodbye, no reason why.
No sorry and no lies.
No goodbye, no reason why.

No empty lies.
No questions of why.
Just honest truth
Is loves real proof.

Karen Hayward ©2013 – Edited 2020 Image and words

First Tutorial

A room full of people, all so unsure.

Apprehension and anxiety, burns right to the core.

Descriptions so perfect, characters surreal,

Stories in stories, some of them real.

A mans life worked with numbers, now he wants words,

Can he dig deep, and describe, the sound of the birds.

The lady who hides, from her closest her talent,

Will the world hear her words, can she be valiant?.

The man who’s seen horror, and all in-between,

Will his words describe anguish, and all that he‘s seen.

The honourable man, that for decades, did his duty,

Can he produce fiction, a thing of beauty?

In a room full of people, all of us unsure.

I hear magical words in at least ten score.

I saw souls come alive, eyes shining bright,

Creative writing is hard, but we’re ready for the fight.

To friends on my course, the people I met,

We have the Red Book, each other,

so lets not fret.

Lets all share our words, our rhymes and our plots,

From each other, we can learn what works.

And what, does not.

Karen Hayward ©2012 Edited 2020


Choices, they have to be made

the game of life, it has to be played.

Stagnated, soured water and death

avoid all choices, and its all you have left.

Heart breaking decisions beyond all reason,

a heart that never changes, unlike the seasons.

It soon turns to ice learns only to hate

until you are knocking at the devils gate.

Choices they have to be made,

the game of life, it has to be played.

So be brave, my dear life soldier,

or else your precious soul grow colder.

Fear not the repercussions, but regret,

it will follow you, never to forget.

Karen Hayward ©2012 Edited 2020 Image and words

Devils Love

Sometimes, I sit and wonder.
Is it my soul you plan to plunder?
What then are you waiting for?
Do you really think me the devils whore?

Sometimes you sit and wonder
can you really her soul plunder?
What is she waiting for, you think
'My sweet, innocent devils whore'.

Sometimes, they sit and wonder
Late at night when the worlds in slumber.
Why is fate so truly cruel?
Is this the only way must we let the devil rule?

Sometimes, the devil sits and plunder’s,
all the thoughts of love and wonders.
He shares with I and you the love
to help us through each day that’s tough.

One day we’ll sit and wonder
for the lost days that life did plunder.
And we’ll be grateful to the devil,
that in our true love he did revel.

Karen Hayward ©2012 - Edited 2020 Image and Words. 

Reflective voices

I sat on the stony shore as the soft ebbing tide
drifted further away. The suns rays reflecting,
of the seas surface, like gold dust,
dropping from the sky. I close my eyes and,
let the winter sun warm me.
I can feel your kisses on my shoulder,
they're soft and warm...
My eyes open, I rest my head
upon my knees. Fate is cruel.
I look out at the blue/grey sky,
and wonder why.
Life is never easy and perfection is rare.
But why does it taunt me.
I close my eyes, go back to my memories,
they're all I have now.
All I will ever have. I never knew
that I would actually miss you.

Karen Hayward ©2012 - Edited 2020 Image and words

So she wakes…

The morning dawn drives on
rising slowly from its heavenly bed.
Spilling gold dust 
sparingly across her tired face,
a true beauty radiating for all to see.
Her eyes like piercing arrows 
searching for the new day,
her hair like red hot fire 
burning tentatively in the rays
that dance between shadowed leaves.

Karen Hayward ©2012 - Edited 2020 Image and Words