That Loyal Hound

That Loyal Hound


If ever there was such a breed, surely it was she.  That singular bitch, that inescapable itch…
Why without her could you even breathe?  Oh, wreathed in flame she welcomed you, like you
were all shiny and new, even as your eye-teeth grew… That loyal hound, that singular bitch, that
ever-after tilt to your switch… seems you’ve finally met your match… so why fight the inevitable catch?

La Fée



©  Odyne La Fée 2018

GS No. 3

Great Sky No. 3

Pic: Eldorado, NM 07/15/18
There is nothing in you unfamiliar.

There is nothing in you I have not loved a thousand ways.

For I see you now, as I have all those times before,

the man beneath;

for beneath is where your light is stored,

and that is where our love has lived

a thousand lifetimes,

a thousand more.

For you are as familiar to me as the clouds are to the sky.

Please my love,

never question why

my love is deeper than any ocean and

tougher than any trouble

yet begun.

And no matter, I will stand by you,

even carry you, whatever may come.

For this,

for all,

for my everything

I am yours



La Fée


©  Odyne La Fée 2018

That Midnight Ride

country road


That midnight ride, out into the country side, when you thought you were all alone, I was there. 

Like that whispered dream at morning’s seam, or that tenderness you could never quite place. 

That gentle gale, that mysterious perfumed inhale, why even that trepidation upon your lips… oh my darling, it was always the ghost of my hips.

How deep in your belly, a bowl full of jelly, whenever you looked upon my face, cuz you knew, deep in your bones, in all those yet unheard moans, I was the one to unravel you. 

My love, mi amore, my ravenous conquistador.


La Fée

©  Odyne La Fée 2018

I often wander…

forest trees fog foggy
Photo by Jaymantri on

I was born of the Earth, as much as of any human mother, and yet it was Her bosom that suckled and nourished me as I grew.  And into Her arms I still run for refuge.  The human who gave birth to me had been too distracted by a need to compress as much pain and suffering into a single-point in space and time to ever be there for me.  Let alone nurture me.  But Mother was there.

And though I know Shee was with me always, it was high up in an Alpine Fir where I first heard Her sing.  Out amongst the branches, amongst the pine cones and the bugs, there was Her voice singing, and whispering to me truths that no one else cared speak.  And so I listened, and I learned, for many long and happy years.

I visit Her still, out there among the worms and the ferns, where Her primordial wisdom speaks in whispers, imparting a gentle knowing through Her subtle showing… that tips Her hat in such splendid ways; if only one is watching, and listening, and feeling.

Deep into Her darkness I often wander, alone for hours, yet never lonely, just once again that little girl with twigs in her hair.

La Fée

©  Odyne La Fée 2018

Antithesis of Death

soldier stare
I’ve seen the death you cradle in your eyes, and I know that nothing can soothe its god-awful cries
A phantasm longed for, yet repulsed just the same, it’s the darkness that brings only loneliness and shame
This hunger for blood, this hunger for pain, why it’s the demon that drives you out into the pouring rain
Yet there is a place where death goes to die, a place where a man can face all that he’d deny
A darkness as natural as the roots beneath your feet, a darkness filled with the sweetest of heat
And here in its womb you’ll find a natural fit, the antithesis of death, this primordial split


La Fée

of course now you come


Of course now you come,
high there on your horse.
Its taken you further, further than you ever thought you should go.
Could, of course Could
because that was the way, until it weren’t.
Until someone asked you to stay
Oh way-ward fucking heart… tear me mine, and mine again
and when you whisper… like time caught up in cotton sheets just to make them fine
well, go on and damn these tears of mine that fall,
fall e’er forever for I have erred so many, many times.
And you here now, put nail to coffin,
put pliers to nut.
You my passion, my intersection,
oh… the reception I never did truly trust
and so I did rust here on my dirty little hinges
creaking instead of speaking,
a head outta time.
La Fée
©  Odyne La Fée 2018