Hear only the whispers of the angels.


Word prompt today is…..underestimate. You can find lots more prompts just like this one here.  So, I don’t like the word ‘underestimate’, it is such a negative word and conjours such negative emotions…especially from me as I’ve spent my entire life being the only one to tell myself that I can achieve it lol  So this poem is based on observations and reflections and reality as well as realisation. I used the acrostic poetic form for this one 🙂


Undo the doubts whispered on empty

Nights beneath a shroud of broken dreams.

Dry away those falling tears from

Eyes that see so true.

Relinquish thoughts uttered by another’s tongue

Erase them from existence.

Sooth your starving soul,

Take heed and rest your weary mind.

Illumination will find you.

Metatron whispers encouragement from above,

Align now and take stand, your strength has returned

Tattered no longer are your wings

Evolve my beauty, become your destiny.


Karen Hayward ©2016

The mouse among the wolves.

Word prompt, survival

The banging lady

You can’t meet my eye and in your voice I hear that you want to cry. You’re relieved as my cat strangles his way through your legs and you run your fingers through his fur that we say is black but is really a dark and beautiful deep ginger. Your voice is tiny compared to the one I hear screaming at four in the morning, you want to apologise, I see it at the tip of your tongue and in your promise of a future in the questions that you ask about my studies. Your apology is not required, not here, not to me, although an explanation for the banging would be greatly received. Today I saw a mouse squinting in the moon light, pleading for the stars to shine just a little, for her, to give her the smallest glimmer of hope, I could not give her hope, so I gave her my time, my forgiveness and my friendship, the rest is up to her, survival comes to those willing to make the changes.


Karen Hayward ©2016


My kinda different.Writing prompt., Diverse.

Writing prompt diverse

She isn’t like you,
she’s different.
She isn’t wrong,
and neither are you.
She’s just different.
She has a love of films,
So long as they ain’t for kids.
She thinks Tim Burton rocks,
and don’t ever,
I mean ever
play Marvel/DC/star wars eye spy with her,
you will lose.
She can tell you what day any date within the month will be,
she spent ten minutes searching her monopoly money for the £60 note.
She loves the bad boys, Anakin, Oscar, Wolverine, Tony Stark….poor Captain America always gets a raw deal from her.
She thinks everyone deserves to be helped,
no matter what the crime.
She holds open doors and smiles,
but gets so utterly confused when people don’t say, thank you
and tears fall and fall.
Shes hot, always, like a walking radiator,
I know why you stare as rain falls and everyone huddles in their hat, scarf and gloves,
except her, in her shorts and t-shirt dancing through the puddles
I know why you stare,
I wish you knew how much I cared.
I understand what you see
I try to believe.
Yeah she’s a little harder than others,
and you’ll spend the day repeating yourself,
until she realises, over there means over there!
She can’t tie laces or brush her hair,
She needs prompting to dress
and never, ever grabs her coat…or jumper.
Making a mess is easy
tidying it up is a battleground,
she needs what she needs,
some days nothing,
Other days she has an arm full of teddies a bag of clothes, books, DVDs, dolls, action figures and random stones,
‘here’ she says cramming it in the bag
without it, the day just won’t happen,
so together we push, pull and heave.
She’s not like you,
she’s different,
she’s still a kid of almost nine,
just a kid,
she’s not like yours,
she’s different
and that’s okay,
she’s my kinda different.

Karen Hayward ©2016