In the chary depths of an Island of solace.

I wish to be an Island, lost far out at sea.

Swimming in solitude with no one to see.

I can’t echo thoughts etched upon scars

as darkness embraces a world full of stars.

I wish to be an Island, blind to their beauty

saved from the shadows cast by the beauties.

I can’t echo grace for you wont or you will

and if left unto me they’re all such a thrill.

I wish to be an Island, to which nothing compares

alone out at sea, so I cannot compare…

For grass that is softer, petals more scented

skies like the heavens and fantasies fated.

I wish to be an Island, lost far out at sea

a place in the silence where I cannot see.

Image and words

I want to walk barefoot upon the moon.

I want to walk on the moon,

bare foot with universal star

dust dancing through my tresses.

I want to stand upon its naked form

and stare into the blackness.

I want to sing among the stars.

I want to look back at earth

see Gaias true beauty from afar.

I want to swim in lakes of moon light,

naked and unashamed watching numerous

suns rise across my horizons.

I want to wear meteor did upon my dress,

skimming my knees a full circle

that twirls as i walk,
teased by the breeze.

I want to ride chariots of the Gods,

traverse the skies in the simplicity of innocence
On the blood of purity.

I want to walk bare foot upon the moon.
Karen Hayward *© 2017

Shooting stars.

Dark skies,

lost are your illuminated

sighs of hope,

snuffed from existence.

Momentarily hidden

behind storming clouds.
If I lay wishes now upon

Shooting stars that I cannot

See yet know are there,

Somewhere,

Do they still count?
Karen Hayward ©2016

A new moon and dandelion clocks.

As a new moon entered the night skies,

as people everywhere analysed their lives,

and wishes made of pure intent,

Are carefully crafted, and lovingly sent.

Blue skies up above,

fill with dandelion clocks and endless love.

Wishes made of pure intent

I wish I had a genie and a bucket full of magic.

I wish I had a maid to come and clean my house
I wish I had a chef to cook a garden mouse.
I wish I had a butler so I could call him really loud.

I wish I had a dog that cuddled at my feet,
and a wolf that sat beside my seat,
I wish I had a goldfish that did nothing but eat.

I wish I had a mower that cut the grass every day,
and shears that worked themselves whilst I just sit and play,
I wish I had a self growing garden with fruit every day.

I wish I had a horse with a horn about his head,
Okay fine, let’s say a unicorn instead,
I wish I had pets that never needed to be fed.

I wish my plants watered on their own,
perhaps they wouldn’t die, perhaps they would have grown,
I wish I could grown the things I have sown.

I wish I owned a library filled with all the books,
with a bed in the corner and blankies in the nooks,
and that touching the cover was all it ever took.

I wish that I could sleep right through the empty night,
I wish the twilight skies wern’t a welcome sight,
I wish that when I sleep that I could take flight.

A forgotten wish.

Writing prompt…beach.

Beneath the sun my fringe bleaches blonde, I know this because I let the red grow out just long enough to remember who I am beneath the mask. I remember the days when i was younger, before I discovered black; hair dye, lipstick and nail vanish. When my hair waist length, would bleach completely blonde beneath the sea salt that clung to the curls. Every summer since I have missed this.

I have a dream left over from those carefree days spent swimming beneath the sun.

One day, with sun kissed cheeks, eyes that sparkle blue and a hint of sun shimmering on sea salt curls I want to watch the setting sun. Rays of golden heat traipsing across my bare shoulder and dancing through my damp hair. Sand covering my legs, shorts almost dry as my skin begins to prickle from the days heat.

Beside me is that person in the universe that hears the beating of my heart as the sun drops from the skies, the one that sees what I feel.

I wish your voice could penetrate my dreams.

I wish your voice was loud enough to penetrate my sleep and enter my dreams, it wouldn’t be the first time I had discovered you there and likely not the last. I wish that when I woke in the early morning that both my mind and body woke up simultaneously the moment they saw your approach. I wish I could put into writing what I can’t put into words. I wish I could be awake at the times when you need and want me and sleep all other times. I wish, wishes, were true. I could drop an old shiny penny into a well or close my eyes and wish upon a dying planet who’s light is slowly fading from sight. I could wish upon white feathers and double rainbows, I could wish upon you.

Tag: wishes