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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