The Rains Came

Photo

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

Rain drops washing away our cares

We laughed from deep within our souls,
Rain falling soaking our clothes,
Splashing in puddles a raucous of sound
and right there in that moment,
we were finally found.
Big dollops of water dripping off noses,
flooding the drains and drowning the roses.
Rivers of water racing down hill
Just watching its power offers a thrill.
Exchanging lame jokes about getting us wet,
and the car that whizzed past us… Yeah we lost that bet!
Soaked to our skin, we look like drowned rats,
No coats, no jumpers and no rain hats,
Just us, our souls and our soaking wet clothes
and a moment in time, when our energy flows.

Karen Hayward ©2018

Image found via WordPress library

Luscious puddles.

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A timeless crackle of air
the heavy draw of rain,
pitter pattering life’s
concert, a symphony
played before a lit up
arena, the skies roar
their encouragement.
Waves of water
cascading
into luscious
green grass.

I walk for a moment bare foot
feel the rain on my skin
and the thunder in my soul.

Karen Hayward (C)2017
Image found on pinterest

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From here I see the
night skies,
Deep blue with
muted clouds
speckled sparingly.
I feel the twilight
breeze, it’s scent
soft and welcoming,
Like an ancient
whisper calling
me home.
Warm lavender
caresses me
calming my mind
the damp promise
of rain kisses
my lips.
There is no moon
and the stars
hide behind a
blanket of
darkness.
But there is you
and the soft hum
of sleep as
exhaustion wins.

Karen Hayward (c) 2017
Image and words

Lavender raindrops

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It pit patters
a symphony across
flat roofs through
lush blades of grass.
Fragrant earth,
rich lavender,
Oh the lavender, how it
rises into the warm air.

I am one with
the universe, her scent
entwined with
my soul.
And oh how the
lavender warms
me.

Karen Hayward (c)2017
Image and words

Lush Raindrops falling on my soul.

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Lush raindrops falling on my soul.

I like to feel the rain soaking through my clothes,
to feel it as it cleanses and turns my soul so cold.
I like to feel the rain splashing on my skin,
dripping through my hair and freezing all within.
Some think that I am odd a stranger in the midst
of creation and the universe my life is just a wish.
I like to hear the raindrops tapping at the glass
they answer all the questions I’m too afraid to ask.
I like to feel the chill that echoes in the air…
then I like a steaming bath to wash away my cares.
With scents of heaven, paradise and love to share
I cleanse away my soul and sew up all the tears.
I lay beneath the water and listen to the beat
eyes closed I am lost in scent and to there I do retreat.
I like to feel the raindrops dripping on my soul
I like the steaming bath that makes me feel so whole.
I like the scent of earth, wet lavender in the rain,
I like the way it whispers my truly sacred name.

Karen Hayward ©2016 image and words.

Raindrops, the drowning in my hair

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There is a silence before rain
falls hissing through atoms,
empty, threatening, soldiers
of nature crashing into life.
But what of the blood that spills?
I grasp at the lose threads
of my soul as it splits with
each drum a blunt knife
tearing hearts chambers.
I count in my
mind how many foot steps,
one for each sting of thunders drop.
One hundred? Two hundred?
I estimate five hundred.
Five hundred shards of my soul
scattered through petrichor.
The earthly scent is a blessing
and a curse defined in your heart.
Your heart. . .but does it beat now
rapid screams of need? There
goes another shard, sharp and
glossed in maternal lubricant.
If only I were your belief. A hero
powered by the Gods, mutated
chemically, born to other planets. . .
I could slow the rain and calm
the orchestra of blood playing
in your ears. I could transmit
messages across the surface
water, manipulate cloud and
envelope you in protective fluff.
My wings would stretch the
earth in search of you, my
soul would scour the universe
as my spirit caught claps of
thunder between the falling
droplets of rain.

Karen Hayward ©2017
Image and words