To and fro

Once in a golden hour they cast to earth a seed, planted in the darkness with no one there to feed.

To and fro they went tearing at
her form, fragmenting at the edges, leaving her tainted and all torn.

Then she grew so much, she wore a crown of light, fought hard to calm
her demons and often lost the fight

She sow’d it far and wide, her body was her power, a vessel to discard
she thought, till her mind bloomed into a flower.

Read my little fable: he that runs may read, they look upon her wholly now, look beyond the seed.

And some are pretty enough, and some are poor indeed; and some of them I’m telling you… will silently bleed.

Once in a golden hour, they cast to earth a seed, up there grew a flower,
She saw herself a weed.

Karen Hayward ©2018
Inspired by and referenced, by my fave ever poet, The Flower, Alfred Lord Tennyson

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Give to me please my muse…

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Give me paper to appease my soul and passion to fill my inkwell,

give me life flushed from living and drained from loving.

Give me pens, of many colors each one a speckle of my essence.

Give me a living canvas, breathing my air and tasting my spirit,

dust it in golden sun rays and ice it in moon beams to

sweeten the hidden depths of sin. Give me crumpled

edges and torn corners, ink blots and strike through’s.

Give me an endless ream with pause breaks for tears

and laughter lines tearing the core. Give me a hb pencil.

Chewed at one end and blunt, let it write my heart with

the smoothest of ease, love spilling through graphite,

lust splitting paper, let desire become the heavy lines

and fear the faint whisper of grey on white. Yes, give me

paper, a canvas, a living body to embody my soul upon.

Karen Hayward ©2017

Image and words.

Will you dance with me beneath a twilight moon?

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Will you dance with me
For just a while
Beneath pale night skies
And a moons slither.

Will you for a moment?
Entwine words and worlds
Whilst we slow dance
Till the stars arrive.

Fingers curled through
fingers, hair gently dancing
with the Jasmine breeze
As last rays kiss my cheek.

Will you dance with me
For just a while.

Karen Hayward ©2017
Image and words

Swallowed beyond oblivion.

seamist

Some days I beg the
mist to fall and
suffocate me,
to swallow whole what
freedom I am afforded
and drown
those things
I am not permitted.
To choke from me
my bitter tongue
that longs to spit
flames at your
scornful eyes.
To lay surrender
the pure essence
of my soul and sell
myself to the devils role
lost in vengeful wars
I shouldn’t fight,
Some days I do not
feel worthy of
these wings, or my
need to take flight,
feeling only the
heavy burden of
your silence as it
chokes me in
your warped
perception.
Some days I want
the mist to
take me…

Karen Hayward ©2017

Ideas evolving And concepts breeding.

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If I could. . .

I would spend all day writing
And all night reading
Ideas evolving
And concepts breeding.
I would watch every sun setting
and see it as a new day seeding.
True soul nourishment breathing
My psyche feeding.
Beneath moons we’d sit kissing
the violent rush of our hearts beating
My pencils scribbling
Ink of need my pens drawing.
With time true art would begin thawing
an explosion of thoughts all storing.
An implosion of life breeding,
Happiness evolving,
I would spend all day writing
And all night reading.

Karen Hayward ©2017
Image and words