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Soul Pearls, the Tears of the Soul
Showing posts with label The Druid King. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Druid King. Show all posts

Saturday, March 23, 2013

To know the Ley, written in chipped stone the Cole-Men way.




I would love to lay beside an ancient Ley.
Sun up to Sun up for the whole of a day.

First at its Northern terminating Stones.
Hugging close to Mother Earth's, hard exposed Bones.

Next at its magick center, the sighting pool.
Drinking Dragon’s blood, tapped by man's so simple tool.

At last to rest by the Southerner terminating Stones.
Pondering the true meaning, of all  Nature's quite Moans.

Each day dreaming of the Cole-Men that cut this Ley.
Each night dreaming of the lost secrets, the Druid's hid along its Way.

And once returned, I would not be the man, I was of Yesterday.
For in two World's I would now live, bloods brother to the Fae.

TDK / The Druid King

Copyright George King March 24, 2013

Monday, March 11, 2013

Awen from the Well.



When most empty it rings like a Bell.

Much like people that are noisily as Hell.

Yet it works both Day and all of the Night

In Summer's fire and Winter's cold Light

But just like People its most useful if turned Upright

My Soul's little Cauldron of hidden Delight.

Remember the Poesy!

TDK / The Druid King


Copy rite George King March, 11 2013


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Blessing and Moon Rising

Monday, August 15, 2011

Love's Change: Written in Silver Shimmering Ink.

 
The Sea gives its water to the Sky. The Sky Gives it to the Ground. Does the rain drops know that they may become a great Tree?
 
Do you know what you could become when you touch Me?
 
A frozen Heart of Ice is unchanging, a safe a thing of beauty, for all too See. 
 
But to love it must melt, for hot passion is it's only Key
 
Your heart is frozen, a bright Jewel of sparkling ice. I long to touch it with my fiery desires, but what would become of Thee.
 
You surly would melt in my arms, and when the steam of our passions was all gone, who or what would we Be?
 
We must both give up our self's to love's fiery transformation, that special Alchemy that makes gold from the Sea.
 
Or go  our separate ways, often looking back with a secret tear, never knowing what we gave up to fear, that day, so willingly.
 
The Druid King
 
Dedicated to all that dared to love and lose instead of being so safe but old and sorry.  The Goddess has surely touched your souls.
 
Copyright August,15, 2011 George King
 
 
 

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

The S.H. Master: Written in Black soft ink.

 
Hi My name is Mr. Bat.
I'm just a little Black Cat.
 
I was born with a really big set of Fangs.
So Mama called me Bat, boy that Hangs.
 
Because I never grew up and am so very very  Small.
I was afraid of everything, even a shadow in the Hall.
 
Then one night, the Goddess taught me the art of S.H. with her magick Ball.
Now I am a proud S.H. Master and  go everywhere with my tail held Tall.
 
So if you want to be a S.H. Master, get some Tuna and give me a Call.
If you pay in Tuna and ask the secret of S.H. really nice, I may teach it All.
 
We will meet outside under the Full Moon and our tails can Twist.
Then I will give you the Goddess kiss and teach you to Super Hiss.
 
Dedicated to Bat the little Black Cat, that knows it always taste better in the other Cat's  bowl.  I think he was the first Tea Bagger.
 
The Druid King
 
Copyright August 9, 2011 George King

Thursday, August 4, 2011

The Day The Music Cried: Written in Green and Red ink.



The Day The Music Cried: Written in Green and Red ink.

It was a solemn  day across the world  and even the Moon.
The whole world had come to bury their loved ones in their final Tomb.

Great Nations had millions of coffins that were  filled and ready on that awful Day.
Huge Mountains they would make when covered in, grass. On top at the Moon, the new Wolfs would Bay.  

Many others cursed this plague of death and burned their loved  in mass fires that filled the whole Sky.
But most could not bear to see their loved ones hurt so in Green and Silver  coffins they would said their final Goodby.

With pomp and great ceremony the UN's Premier would lay the final one to Rest.
Satellites sent the pictures world wide and as the world watched, all knew it was for the Best.  

Now the shining golden shovel, flag draped, was handed to a frail widow oh so Proud.
She was the last US President and as she accepted it a great cheer went through the Crowd.

It was The Day The Music Cried!
It was the Day the US Dollar Died!

The Druid King
Copyright August 4, 2011 George King