Julie Grenness
Jun 27, 2015


The gifts the Druids  forgot,
Imagination or a load of rot?
Envisioning future along the track,
Looking forward, not looking back.
Miracles and prophet's dreams,
Mystic lands blessed by moonbeams,
Heroes and inspiring queens,
Appearing in transit, sight unseen,
Imagination or a load of rot?
The gifts the Druids forgot....

Feedback welcome.
#dreams   #gifts   #prophets   #druids  

The Druids power has been lost for some time. But we all believe in Magic to some degree. So how do we multiply our presence without cried or Cree? We rise again starting next to the Old Oak Tree.

Trees bud at the joints and flower. tulips try and keep up with the volume. crocus flowers have done their jobs ushering in change. leaves find their way pointing up to the heavens. the dandelions maybe turned into wine now. spring is upon us. time for rejoicing and divine intervention. Miracles, rebirth, and spiritual growth. brave souls Dawn a crown of knots. hero image is drawn out of instances. every man battles priggishness. this is not a time for mistakes.

I saw a Druid watch the sky.
Jun 20, 2013

On a tall stone bridge below the falls
I saw a Druid watch the sky.
The wind teased the branches of the great tall oaks
their leaves a shattering sound
like the skirt of a gypsy dancer.
How still the Druid seemed! Unmoving 'midst the breeze.
I asked him what he sought among the hills at twilight.
Not a word he said, but motioned with his gnarled staff
To thick grey clouds above the highest peak.

Druid pixies
brandon cory nagley

Pixied fairies
Druid pixies
Swinging on breathe and trees
Loosing themselves to each other
Solace place
No hate no greed
No distrusting
No talking of others
Best friends verily in love
Gangsters of mad Lovers
Sitting on stilts of no guilt but hugs!!

The spirit of Jacksonia lies in the tides. But sometimes we never see what the moon hides. The spirit of Albion lies everywhere at all times.

Albion. Our circle. Our home. Our world. Our land of the rose. The land of lime and stone. Our bosom. Our Native Land. Our Father Land. Our Mother Land. Our Home. Oh Albion!

The forest is alive with Woods and timbers of Oak. Wild thickets and sheltered homes. Ivy growth's rise over coppice. Clumps of flowers and Clover bloom where light penetrates. The weald is our home.

#nature   #freeverse   #druid   #weald  
John F McCullagh
John F McCullagh
Dec 31, 2013

The moon in shadow lay
in solstice's midnight hour.
Distant stars gave off dim light
how feeble seemed their powers.
Dark cloaked Druids skulked about,
They moved from tree to tree
gathering the mistletoe
for their dread ceremony.
Primal terror filled my veins,
the blood borne juice of fear.
What should happen to you and I
if the Priests should find us here?

The solstice, a lunar eclipse and perhaps one drink too many.
Not much of an excuse for verse, but perhaps as good as any!

The flight and call of the birds imbues us with the future. Our past comes from a well. The present lies in a river. Our elders are now gone in crumbling stone. If the bough of the Oak is as wide as 3 men all boundaries can be broken and our souls can pass on.

#soul   #freeverse   #druid  
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