Morning frost and Sunday melodies. 

Morning mist sweeping through quiet streets, kissing frost embraced blades of luscious Green grass as a pale sun hides from sight, gathering Sunday morning thoughts on gentle melodies of songs gone by. And I watch the magpie, watching me and I know the ancient symbolism of its soul like the back of my expressive pen that pours ink haphazardly across the blank canvas of a soul awakening, sleeping, awakening and I hear the whispers of higher thought calling through droplets of dew quenching a thirst I cannot see and she is gone, her song echoing still…I watch the mist curling, swirling thick and heavy as an ancient, Druid perhaps, corner of my soul awakens at the soft call of home.

Karen Hayward ©2017

Image found on pinterest. 

Mirage of blue.

Swim naked with me in a pool of blue,
Just me and you.
Take of our masks, and remove our disgiuse,
Wash away the curious whys.
Forget the woes of our being,
Everyone needs a rest from seeing.
Watch the dragonfly,
As she skips across the sky.
Once a beauty born of the sea,
Now she soars happy and free.
Let us pause along our paths,
Take time to let our souls feel us laugh.
Swim naked with me in a pool of blue,
Learn the things you never knew,
Forget the past and relish in the new,
Swim with me in a pool of blue.

A night without escape.

I fell so deep,
into sleep,
I can’t recall my dreams,
Or what they mean.
I asked for light
Throughout the night.
Surrounding me,
It set me free.
A protective bubble,
A spiritual cuddle.
Nothing got in,
No noise, not a thing.
i slept so deep,
At the Angels keep.
Their wings cooling my air,
Fingers, smoothing my hair.
Whispers in my ear,
Telling me,
They were always