Soul Pearls, the Tears of the Soul

Monday, July 25, 2011

The SENIOR SENOR  --- Written in Moon Shadow Pale Grey Ink.

The Senior Senor, even late of night wears the broad rimmed Hat
And walks whenever he can, for gas is expensive, even to the richest Cat

Some say he is  Bruja, others laugh  and say, no he is made  of an Oak
But none ever say it to his face,  for they dare not make such a Joke

To him they come when family sick as none have money for the Doctor's Bill
They beg of of him, oh please the Magick  cure, the one that takes no Pill

If true of heart, kind of Mule and  upon  their knees they Fall
He will cast, as he knows the  Magick's mind and how to weave its healing Spell

Many have said to all,  he must this Magick freely teach, or else be damned to Hell
He has learned this Magick from  blood and tears and owes none a drink from its Well

There are very few that really can and even less that tend to give, so judge not, how harsh he Be.
The rich in this life the rules have set , the most important being:   Nothing's  Really Free

The Senor often walks the roads late of night, a shadowed Soul  with ghosts from battles old and lands so far Away

And if you meet him some  Moonless night, please be quick of passage sure to give , for this Magick you, too, may need some Day

The Druid King

Dedicated to all the Solitary Psychic Readers and Healers everywhere, that burn some much of their own Soul energy helping so many others,  who's pale hollow words of thanks quickly blow away like morning mist in the rising Sun.  Remember your Psychic Power is like your special blood so very rare, precious and not a never ending well.

Copyright July 24, 2011 by George King

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  1. Thank you so so much, I too heal with my soul, a free spirit not to be held, :) yet a druids heart and knowing, it is of a world before the time of man, to the time of myth the wheel is turning back to our time :) this sang to my soul, I write Fantasy Stories and poetry so Druid Bard in a land so so far from yours, yet within the veil we cross...may my words bless your gift, here in the dark of morning 3am not an hour to be walking the paths of a suburban coastal town in Australia not this one at least. thank you and yes our 'Psychic Power is our special blood so very rare and is not a never ending well' love it and a word of caution to those of us who give...and never take.
    blessing Nean

    1. May dreams always guard your path and guide your way! Moonlitcleric
      Moon rising