Fairy King

your face
and hands
on me;
hot breath,
under the Rowan
tree are
cream and
butter. they say

turn aside from
the will-o-the-wisp
and wear cold
iron on your
wrists, carry a
crumb of bread
in the pocket—
but I
the light

that leads me
home and fall
into you in mists
of dripping grasses
and you tangle
my hair, raking
teeth through elf-
locks and messing
my all with your
tempest winds.

i bury my face
in your earth, drink
the cup of familiar–
warm, musty…

home. I am home.
where you are, I
am home.


  1. says

    Asking for and receiving blessings and protection in ones garden or home of the soul to have the protection of the fae and the Rowan that provides protection from the evils of this world that is all too much with us. Lovely poem woven from the mythological world.

    Exquisite poem, and stunning breath-taking photo,


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