I wove a chain of buttercups

And placed them ‘round your head

You kissed me in a golden field

Where dandelions spread

Wings to meet the summer breeze

That blew your auburn hair

I wove a chain of buttercups

And asked you if you dare

Kiss me in this golden field

Where dandelions are spread

Soft upon the splendid grass

To fashion an excellent bed

I gathered you some dandelions

To show my faithfulness

And knelt to place them at your feet

Because I loved you best

I kissed the freckled forehead

Where a wreath of flowers lay

To crown you king of golden fields

Where lads and lasses play

©Kay Salady

The lace of our dear Queen
Buds in a field of green
Amid the slender blade
And newborn clover
Her center tinged in hue
Of lavender with dew
Is frequented by those who sip
Her nectar

©Kay Salady

Superficial you

Cutting deep into

The scab that I had dug

Relentlessly you rub a little harder

Dousing me with vinegar

Until everything ingested

Is splattered on the page

For all to see

Even me

And oh the bittersweet

That I had longed to keep

Held down

Is passed around

Until it’s lost its connotation

It will become someone’s quotation

And no longer be my own

The name attached means nothing

For the poet is a ghost

That roams these floors of mine

That haunts my weary mind

Like you

Cutting deep into

Everything I do

©Kay Salady

O’ husband, why seek out a whore while your lover waits at your kitchen door?

Brother, your sister lies bleeding at the entrance you labeled, “Heaven”.

She is the lotus that blooms from broken clay.

She is the hope for yet another day.

Weep for your transgression!

Sweet Goddess of the Earth, Mother of the Kingdom, and Giver of Sustenance is she.

Your Queen has set herself ablaze to escape the malice in your heart.

Stifled by your ignorance, the flower has lost her bloom.

Muddied by your sinfulness, she is void of sweet perfume.

Without her there beside you, there will no longer be any room for you to bear witness.

©Kay Salady

Slight lips seethe rancid spittle

Spewing forth toxicity

Into my peaceful atmosphere

And I squirm to move away from her

As we piss away the hours

I think of art and poetry

I think of all the damage done to me

As I listen to her rage

On a solitary page of pain

And it’s driving me insane to stay

It’s nearly three a.m.

And she’s reeled me in again

With that rusty hook of pity

She’d been dropping in her line

And I’m the sap who took the time

To listen to her whine

I try to hang the line

She screams a bit more time

I lie and say it’s fine

It never is

©Kay Salady

Oh, Mama
So many tears I’ve cried
Without your arms to calm me
How I’ve longed
To smell your sweet perfume
As cooling hands wipe smooth
My weary brow
I hunger for the comfort
That you heat upon the flame
Of love within our home
Now I am all alone
Without the meal
That would satisfy and heal
This willful child

©Kay Salady

Echoes of my soul
Within the whispering wind
Calls out to the sea
Return to me my lover
I shall await your coming

©Kay Salady

O’ healer

Inhale vast breaths

Of love and light

Lay remedial hands

Infused with warmth

Upon the afflicted

This soothing balm

Of tender mercies

Will ease their pain

By restoring tranquility

To the imperfections

Of alignment

From surface to core

Encouraging transformation

From weakness to strength

©Kay Salady

She knows no living

Floundering for existence

In her mire of pain

Supplicating sustenance

From minds of indifference

She longs for one dance

Where lithe bodies pirouette

Beneath a sky of sparkle

One tender kiss of farewell

Before the last curtain falls

She is all alone

Spinning harsh wheels of torment

Without and within

The cold hard steel that binds her

To an endless misery

©Kay Salady

We hover toward

Warm cinnamon

Hot coffee

And the smell of fresh baked bread

We rise to greet the day

And sit to bow our heads

Around the family table

Where grace and gravy flows

Over mashed potatoes

Little do we know

That all of life’s abundance

Is centered in this room

Where hands are held together

Where scent of Mom’s perfume

And Father’s intervention

Guides us along the way

As we carry conversations

In this place where we convey

Our love

©Kay Salady