The whispered call of Dawns song…

Shh, I listen to the empty echo of 6am,
tiredness still in my eyes,
A vast sky whispering promises of light
Lonely cars splitting atoms dividing night.
I look along my road, dead lights, no life
as people sleep dream and wish for more time.
Grim has been standing guard over old man’s wife,
But he doesn’t take her, not here tonight.
Still age creeps in, always arriving at first light
Red and blue glows illuminating the site.
My sky is starless the moon is bidding goodnight,
Too late for more sleep, tiredness settles in my waking eyes.
Shhh, I sit and watch the morning skies.

Karen Hayward ©2017

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Silence engulfs me…

Selene, do you catch the broken
fragments of my thoughts,
reminiscent echoes
of ancient days frozen
in the paths of time.
My soul has aged in
days gone past
twilight has become
my refuge.
The ungodly hour of devils fun
is scarred upon my wings
in mottled greys
of solitude.
Shhh, do you hear
the way my heart beats?
A broken rhythm
perhaps, or maybe just a forgotten
hum…

Karen Hayward ©2017 

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Muted hues of another day…

For a brief moment my smile fell as I pondered worth,
and instantly I saw this bird.
Between dying leaves in muted greens
Purest white and peach of cream.
Colours so rich and vivid
Symbolic of a life well hidden.

And I am five, colouring, sat alone
when I discover navy blue and peach spell home,
A moment of surreal calm among my storm
How is it that a colour makes me feel so warm.
Like then, but now I know take heed
symbolism is the ageless seed.

My energy divinely sent runs low in the devils grasp,
I wane beneath this crushing blast..
Won’t you walk with me in pastures old?
Where silence whispers in a tongue of gold?
Would you see and know and understand?
As I pull of shoes to feel the land.

I pause beneath a moon lit sky of navy blue
hear the forest call and think of you.
I need pillows filled with feathers covered
In pink,
Purple, blue and green a place to talk but not to think.
To stop let go and feel my soul
In natures hand so I feel whole.

Would you sit with me among the trees?
As the scent of earth entwines with me,
Watch through broken branches a sky of stars,
And ponder numbers, distance and life so far.
Would you sit with me and hear the earth
and love me hard till I see my worth?

Karen Hayward ©2017

Splitting the atoms of thyme

Time spent swimming in thyme
blue oceans of salted seas
flickering flames of warmth
and silence, just soft silence.
Like an eruption of chaos
volcanic lava spilling,
You rise, she rises
Noise erupts
Tiny atoms split
Split again
Split again
and split again
my deamon shatters among
this dark trilogy
of thought as thyme
fades, as time disperses
to become empty thoughts
in worthless verses.

Karen Hayward ©2018

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The silent mist calls me home…

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I have a deep yearning
within me
for solitude
silence,
for the
swaying grass,
and whistling leaves
for rolling hills
endless skies of blue
and the rising
giggle of the days
sun spilling across
lush green grass
just beyond
the railroad
and her one
a week station
that sits patiently
without sound,
yearning for the
hustle and buzzle of life.

Karen Hayward ©2018

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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
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