The Blue of Night: Written in the Blue blood of the Picts

As I walked the Ley twas the deep dark blue of night.

One could almost feel the ancient Picts coming out again to fight.

It seems like only yesterday, ten thousand years ago.

In blue of night, with Flint and Fire oh how the blood did flow.

Those poor Blue Souls so many lost in battles ancient show.

Come now again to fight, as they really have no other place to go.

It was so long, long ago, when I still wore my callings white.

Staff of fire, Magi and Master of the blue and bloody night.

All races feared whence I came.

For War and Pestilence were my fame.

Even the mighty Fae gave me pass.

And in time of War my aid did ask.

We who plotted and first cut the Ley.

Letting Earth's Magick bleed into the land of day.

So deep were our crimes , even the Gods had to turn away.

But first they cursed us, to have to return, in a far and distant day.

To stand and fight one righteous battle for Pagus and the land.

Against even a greater returning evil, that which had created Man.

The Druid King

Dedicated to the ancient Cole-Man of the Ley.
May this time our Sins be put away.

Copyright George King May 9, 2012

See all my poems and blood red ink at http://soulpears.blogspot.com   also my thoughts on Druids then and now http://thedruidking.blogspot.com

And Yes it the Smell of coming evil that's blowing in the Wind.

Yes Sisters and Brothers there is a way: Written in rattle snake brown ink.

I met a Deadly Snake the other day.
On a path of which there was no other way.

His rattles warned me he was standing his ground
That it was I who must now turn around.

The path was narrow and I have traveled long.
And from the way I had come he seemed to belong.

I stood still like the stone, staff in hand but did not use its power to command.
Like my self this snake belongs to and has equal claim to the land.

We stared intent at each other for a time.
Each talking the others measure before a crime.

At last his rattles he lay to rest .
Slithered across my feet while to frozen my heart did its best.

And then he turned, his tongue darting an looked back at me.
In my mind I hear him say, yes it is possible peace to be.
With respect and patience we can share the way you see.

Suddenly of dust and Sunlight Sparking like fire a dJinn rose from its hidden bed.

Slowly becoming a flaming form, smiled and said in words my ears heard and not my head.

Old Druid friend I see you are still wise, even now in this long since reborn.

When so many have lost the knowledge of old true ways but not you little acorn.

Oh Bless the old Gods of our ancient Ley
Some still remember and follow the old way.

Peace and Properer little Brother of our Ancient OAK.
For you have learned that fear is but humanities enslaving yoke.

The Druid King

Dedicated to all that walk the ancient way of the Ley.
And understand that yes life does come another day.

Copyright George King May 1, 2012

To see all my public work or contract a project please go to:

http://soulpears.blogspot.com or http://thedruidking.blogspot.com

The Ley of the Land: written in the ink of the ancient first Firs

I walk down the Ley like I did in the days of old.
The last of the Cole-Men as history has foretold.

Yet still I track true to the Ley
You could say I walk the straight line.

Taking the pulse along Mothers hurt vein.

Without the Dragon's breath, I feel the great pain

Still  I stay to the Ley and retake the Ley of the land,
Even as it breaks my heart this total destruction I understand.

At every Cross-Ley, New Rome in Mother's heart a stake did lay.
Blocking the Dragons breath in each direction of its sacred way.

This new Civis man has killed the Leys and poisoned the line.

Lost are the ancient Trackways that stretched back through time.

Now Churches and petro pumps stand on the Folks Moot
But then there is no Druid to take the toll of the folks vote.

There are no Cole-men to clean and survey the line.
In New Rome to carry a Cole-Staff is a high crime.

This new man no longer follows the Druid's lost tribe.
But worships cold steel, concert, and Silver the bribe

He is no longer a child of our sweet Earth
Nor the proud and honest son of our Sun

Even the Moon looks down upon him with a silver tear.
For of the Pagus heart beat there is none left that can hear.

Ask not why the soul of Humanity is in such a de-Ley

Still plagued with endless wars and can not find its way.

But ask the old and new Romans that killed straight of the Ley

And caused all the old Druids to follow the Fae.

Dedicated to my old friend Alfred Watkins 1855-1935 a great Man with a Druid's Heart

The Druid King

Copyright George King 03-27-2012