Ley's Walk

I walk along my Ley.
Like the ancients did so far far away.

Oh Ley hear once again my call.
Druid back from ancient fall.

Rise and greet my in our secret way.
As I walk again from far yesterday.

Whisper to me knowledge lost so long ago.
That like the ancient Druids the truth I may really know.

For your sweet blood I  would walk in ice and snow.
While your power to others, I can not show.

I too am ancient Druid of Oak and Ley.
Reborn this far and distant day.

Greet and guide me oh my ancient Ley.
That in this life I may re-find our lost and Magick way.

TDK / The Druid King

Copyright George King  September, 13, 2015

The Druid

Like the Oak we change the land . 

Roots deep that never sleep.

Making Soil where there was sand.

Body reaching for the Stars.

Till Lighting or Age bring us down.

Yet from root or Acorn we do another round.

Squirrel Bird and even Man.

They come and go like shadows across the land.

Yet Sun - Moon - Rain and Snow.

These better than most we understand.

And We, the Fae - with the Gods, will be back.

Sans Glamour  -  to reclaim our Land.





Penned in Runic Era 2264


Moon Rising

Babel Risen


TDK / The Druid King



Copyright George King October 02, 2014 

A Druid's Walk, written in the dust of Time.

As I walk I draw power from the way of the Ley.

I listen to spirit of the First Oak in the Land of the Fae.

I feel Gala's pregnant heart beat beneath my feet each Day.

Yet I answer only to my Over-Soul for what I may do or Say.

For I am a Druid and follow only the ancient Adder's Way.

TDK / The Druid King

Copy rite George King March, 10 2013

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Blessing and Moon Rising

Druid Child written in the milk of Oimelc's ink

Let bars of Iron not bind its mind to be another Man Cow.

Or touch the burning brand of Adam to its Shining Brow
.
So few are born like it with the Third Eye.

Goddesses Ceridwen's special gift, the Awen of Why.

Be it born a She or He the Druid Soul carieth not a Jot.

For it is not the sex that has cast this special child"s sacred Lot.

But in its Blood there is an invisible third stand of cosmic DNA.

The Ancient Oak's hidden Gift to the Druid's Soul Way.

And with it, a Child is born in the knowledge of the Ley.

This rare blood carries special kinship to all that's wild or pagus still alive Today.

To it Awen flows down from the ancient and sacred Oak that Groves.

Only in the far off lost lands of the Fae.

Where they guard its ancient life each Night to Day.

Through all five seasons of the mystic Dark and Light.

From those on Earth born to the ancient evil Way.

Yet still rule over man, even to this very modern Day.

Their goal to cut down this Ancient and sacred Oak.

And of its wood, finish Humanities final Yoke.

To gain ultimate power for them there is no other Way.

Still as long a Druid child is born and remembers ancient Ley.

A blind and lost Humanity will remain somewhat free for another Day.




If this tale rings deep in the well of mind for You.

Doubt not its flash of strange but sweet Awen.

As Goddess Ceridwen has blessed your tongue with just a drop or Two.

And she need not to give reference to old Men with Silk and Bordered Robes
.
That used the wood from our sacred Groves to feed the fires of their Roman Globes.


The Druid King

Copyrite George King February 22, 2013

Scrying with the Black Oak

Oh ancient Black Mirror upon my wall.

Of this World you show me nothing at all.

 Yet in your magick face I see the in between.

The hidden World that to most is never seen.

 And to me your visions are always true.

The ways of the future that will come due.

 For scrying is a dark and dangerous art.

Not for those of the New Faith or faint of heart.

 On your surface this world's light does fall.

Only to come out in some dark Hell's hall.

 All I know is that for sure, in your eye is a portal to the mind.

And with your help the spirts of the netherworld I call and bind.

 By Candle Book and Bell the Magick words I do tell.

With Blade and Blood in the circle of salt I have cast my spell.

 Come forth my little pretties from your frozen hell.

Do my bidding and in my service you may dwell

For I am the dark Oak that walkith among man always in the white cloak

Master from the Dark Deep Woods and upon my soul is no King or God's Yoke.

 The Druid King

Copyright 03-07-2012 George King

Old Ways, written in Brown Acorn Ink.

Sometimes the Old Ways still play my Song.

The Woods I have walked have been Dark and Long

With only The Oak to keep my old old Soul Strong.

 Still it is these Ancient Woods that I have and do Belong

Walking under the Moon so often alone, along the Ley

 Spreading the Acorns for the Druids that will come another Day

 Now that I have found you again Life is easy and my Moon forever Full

 Till at last to Sweet SummerLand we give in,  our home and  its eternal Pull

 Dedicated to Janice Scott-Reeder my Sun and Moon and Love.

The Druid King.

Copyright 03-03-2012 George King

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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