The Queen

The Queen sits high upon her throne and I am hers—her very own.

I sit and await her beckon call for she’s my Majesty, the Queen of all.

She points and shouts for what she needs and I jump at her command.

I kiss her feet and bow my head and she pets me with her lovely hand.

Her breasts are full, her belly round, her lips are cherry red.

If I am good and I am kind, she may take me to her royal bed.

We will romp and we will play and roll and laugh the day away.

But then again, tomorrow comes and back to reality I must go.

She will crack her mighty whip and stomp her foot and scream,

“Pour my tea and draw my bath and kiss my little toes!”

Everything for my Queen—yes, everything for her sweetness.

She is so fair and soft and gentle—yes, she is my weakness.

©Kay Salady


About Kay Salady

I write about the greatest force on earth that, I believe, lives on forever and surpasses all else. "All your poems read like I am watching an artist use words instead of colours full of feeling." ~Anon.

Posted on June 13, 2011, in poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink. 9 Comments.

  1. Very regally done. I mean it, it sparks with pomp and royalty somehow. Very enjoyable. Light and free, yet draws one back to the weariness of servitude. Nicely done!


  2. charles said it all.
    you did stunning job delivering your message,


  3. Shaik.Hussain

    Bahut Acche Brendianoooo!!!!!


  4. All hail the queen (^_^) Nicely done.


  5. I love the last lines I really love the dynamics and it makes me think of a dominatrix and I love that!


  6. I’m so happy that you love it. xoXox


  7. Regal indeed!
    Loved the ending.

    Thanks for sharing.


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