White Flower

White Flower

I sat among the willows
It was in the month of June
In the sweet enchantment
Of a minstrel’s silver tune
Reluctant to give in again
I ran through open glade
To hide from motivation
Where tall grasses promenade
Aside the flaxen buttercups
And lovely Queen Anne’s Lace
Motionless, I lay with them
Yet, still, he found my place
Hidden in that verdant hill
By trembling blossom’s trail
Of petals he’d picked one-by-one
So pallid and so frail
Inhaling fragrant notes of spring
I’d warmed the lover’s song
And felt he’d crush the heart of me
The further he went on
Until I felt his very breath
Sear my secret soul
The minstrel turned its essence
Into something magical
I crowned him King of Lush Domain
For he had touched the core
Of something wild and wonderful
Not hidden anymore

©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 July 24, 2015, in Kay Salady Poetry, poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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