Crimson petals. 

Where petals fall, 

kissed by morning dew,

Caressed in ethereal light,

Embraced by celestial skies.

Such beauty in the fallen pieces,

Torn edges, fragrance dancing

In summers breeze. Colour

Floating in golden rays,

Crimson red among 

Lush green blades, Freedom,

Perhaps now their hue will

Never fade. 
Karen Hayward*© 2017

Image and word’s 

Peel open my petals. 

Peel back flush pink petals. 

Slide away the outer layer of 

Protection, slip your fingers between

The delicate scent of modesty,

Purity and innocence. Lose yourself

In the fragrant essence of hedonism,

Ripe floral escape dancing

In springs breeze. Gently tease open

The shy blossom of belief, pause

Between the gradient colour hues,

Caress the silken petals beneath. 

Taste the essence of nectar upon

Your fingers, know it’s source upon

Your lips. Patience is any mans 

Virtue, watch in awe as pink

Flesh petals peel open at your 

Finger tips. 
Karen Hayward*©2017

Kaleidoscopic essence of devotion.


Will you read me lost thoughts of poetry as twilight twinkles through open windows,
warm water cascading across my body?
In silent vulnerabilities,
sensual knowing and deep intimacy borne of free souls,
will you whisper to me sonnets written of beauty of love of desire?
As Lunar breathes sparkled kisses on the nights breeze dancing through candle flames..
will you read to me tales of love, white knights and mans kiss upon his lady?
Will you whisper to me forgotten words of tragic love stifled by Pandora’s locked box…
And will you kiss my falling tears?
Will you sprinkle petals of every colour across the water and watch as they settle upon my porcelain skin.
Will you kiss me with the abandonment of a man lost to his soul?
Will your eyes devour the very essence of me in purity of innocence?

I will make of you a poem by a moonlight glimpse,
Love’s ripple upon every sense as cascading waves burst in points of imploding desire.
Let my quill trace the grotto’s of sweet revelation on the parchment of your soul in ways never imagined never to be told.
Let us dance in the snowlight down of crystalline meandering battling elements in beloved embrace.
Rest upon the cognac blaze the want anew  composing sonnets bared to the firelight’s sultry glow
I  will write of sunsets bright hues on wave so gentle awash upon the countors of your porcelain ambrosia
I will write of garden tryst in the evening mist of whispered passions of paramour fervor.
I will catch your tears and marry them inside me for all that your are is precious
I will bring  fulfillment in the bedroom of your eyes amid sweet passion’s kiss
I will surrender lost in the innocence of your virtues aflame.
I will read you love poems in an eternal moment of bliss.

Michael J, Garland & Karen Hayward  © 2017

Image Karen Hayward ©2017

A rose is for another.


Roses were never meant for me,
I love the simple little daisy
I’m not about beauty,
I’m about growing free.
I’m not about floral scents so pretty,
but the scent of life with the hint of sea.
I’m not a symbol of reused cliches you see,
I’m like the daisy, just me.

Karen Hayward ©2016 (image and words)

Beauty in the dying fragrance.


Even in death they retain their beauty.
Their fragrant scent, alluring appeal.
The subtle hint of a darker desire
and flames that ignite that fire.
Even in death as life drains away
Even in death I feel the essence of those precious petals,
drying beneath a scorching sun
but still they retain that beauty.

Karen Hayward ©2016 (Image and words)