Author: jennyhayut


collecting always collecting

those pocket-watch of moments

where we cried

where we grew

taking steps forward

holding hands in those backwards ones too

painting dead end rainbows

into yellow brick roads

where lions and red ruby slippers

fought off the relentless hungry toads

chasing storms even as the winds blew

watching as those colors bled

its there I saw this you

in truth a beauty to behold

in this a quest

of renewable hues

Perfect CureGalaxy Dynamite


this musical selection I’ve paired with my words here I’m proud to announce is my nephew’s band whom also are the inspiration behind the band in my first romance novel, Shifting Gears. The image I captured along a country road just after the rain as I was chasing trees. For more of my photography you can find my gallery here

morning walks: photography

morning walks that find my pause

where glimmers of you drink in the shade

tucked in shadows i become

with no want to return

for in the iridescence of you i am one

I have long since adored dragonflies. As of late they have made their presence known, and I took pause and listened, enjoying the splendor and freedom of their flight.

Did you know in just about every culture they symbolize change, adaptability and self-realization? Sadly, they live most of their time as a nymph, only flying for a short fraction of their life. It is in this I find the reminder of how truly short life is. How we must embrace every precious moment gifted to us.

Living in the moment is imperative for we know not what tomorrow will bring us. Trusting in oneself, and the choices we make, in granting ourselves to see beyond any self- induced illusions we sabotage our growth with.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed the walk. For more of my photography you can visit my gallery here

season in she

the leaves were on fire

drunk from a bokeh sun

curving to the harvest moon

longing to come undone


in quiet repose each did

let down their hair and run

with no want of looking back

with fascination having won

-image taken by me of freshly cut tiger lilies gifted to me. for more of my flora photography you can visit my gallery here











as rains grew greater,

the night, freckled moonstones of desire

became drunk upon the crackling blush laid bare upon its hearth

sun-kissed cheeks answered to the fervent flames

whilst shadows disowned patience to dance the stories of their day

-image taken by me of Queen Anne’s lace that continues to adorn trails and roadsides here. for more of my flora photography you can visit my gallery here

losing a religion

you almost made it be

losing this religion that brides within me

scriptures perching throughout the trees

a braille for these blinded eyes to struggle and see

waiting like tombs simply to be freed

fingers weeping, longing within this recluse of me

paled to the dreams fighting against the every day

baptized in a fire, soaked in the flames

confessing to centuries of monotony

                                                        ….you almost made it be


-just breathe-









beyond the shallows

where your waves steep

extracting the flavors of the sea

in the rush of darkness,

i bloom most silently

into this garden of benthos, a blushing bride i become

where you in most ardent steps nakedly roam

clutching the tapestry of emeralds woven about my hair

draping upon the coral of my cheeks lending glitter to the foam


cradling the brine that blankets the secrets that i keep

where empty forests speak the language of me

and you, with lips of atlantis, unearth the diamonds of my deep


Surfing the Ether-Peter Pearson

This piece was inspired by a daily writing prompt I participate in where the word given was benthos. I’d no idea what it meant. Even in asking a friend, she was clueless too. Upon looking it up naturally said friend was jubilant at the fact she could now use newly discovered word in a game of Words With Friends.

I include this editorial here to express my adoration and appreciation for writing prompts. Not only do they expand my vocabulary, they push me out of my comfort zone in my writing. They have become a powerful ally in strengthening my writing and I encourage the participation with one.

As always, thank you for reading.


lace puddles

weave between the weeds of the sea

lapping slowly


resting upon the shallows in she

barefoot in silt paths she roams

collecting pieces

from the liquid mirror shored

——for the sea remembers

captured these images from a day on the beach and was enraptured at how I was able to capture the cerulean in the waves. i’m thankful that in living on the coast, the ocean is in my backyard. like for most, the music of the waves is medicinal, replenishing ones soul. For more of my photography you can visit my gallery here.



the scars we wear, the scars we bear

ever present, no matter how faint they become, remembering the birth, the growth of every one

years of adapting, learning to heal, hiding the souvenirs you bear that keep them real

often, late at night, when the world is still, you let them slip out, perhaps a masochist’s way to heal

the slope though slippery, in freeing their voice, for darkness bids its welcome, giving you a choice

either walk its path and give in, or learn from those moments before a courage could begin

they are, after all, a part of you, so it is with strength to embrace the journey they took you through

Dream a Little Dream of MeElla Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong

I am still on the adventure of listening to beloved love songs from a different perspective. To love one self is the best love affair after all so I found it fitting to pair scars with the lyrical and soulful beauty that is Ella Fitzgerald.


-just breathe-