Posts Tagged ‘Puck’

The Claife Crier:

The Claife Crier:

I make animations to reveal the light behind all things, I re-present legends and myths which have often been missunderstood as fearful when in fact they are tales of delight that lead us out of our worldly constraints into a greater reality. My new poem and film, a ghost story from Windemere in the Lake District, is such a tale transformed…..

A monk from Furness Abbey thought, to save fallen women, but fell –
He followed back to her Claife Heights home, 
because he loved her, so well.

On western shore near Windemere, she abjured his advances, ailing –
Unrequited and blighted night and day he fell about, 
keening and railing.

Soon he died of broken heart – and of his own endlessness of wailing.
But his ghost remained, as if detained, his tragedy proclaiming!


As time rolls by, with it many years fly –
The monks story quite grew into legend.
As the ferrymen tell, after nightime has fell,
His howling from Far Sawey sends a supernatural spell.

Hailed the monk
” Ferryman, Ferryman, Ferry me hither,
For Loves sake Ferryman, can you come no quicker?!!”

At the Ferry Nab the ferrymen gab and frowning as one, 
would not take the fare – ever!
For they knew full well, it was the ghostly monk burdened with care
so – they did beware.

But along came a boatman, new young and keen,
To him the old legend his common sense demean!

Cried out the cold crier
”Ferryman, Ferryman, Ferryman, Fly!
Ferryman save me, lest heart broken I die!”

Uptook himself the boatman and hied himself hither,
With a glint in his eye to collect the gold giver.

And the night was dark, and the winds were strong, 
as the new recruit ferryman rowed fiercely along –
But he did not return till the following day, if you listen carefully 
you will hear what he had to say…

”Over lake, over wave, over fell, marsh and brier,
Quick as horse, faster than fire,
Mayhap a rook or babbling brook,
I chased before morning along pathways forsook!”

Stark raving-mad, or so it would seem,
The young returned ferryman with staring eyes appears 
lost in a dream.

”Audacious, outrageous, unspeakably spoken,
before a thought, word or deed, but with laughter as token,
through hither, through thither, through widdershins and beyonder,
It cannot be so, yet cannot assunder!’

Ranting-delerious, as if witless, and yet….
Something he says, I cannot forget!

”By sunshine, by moonbeam, by starlight and shinning!!
Possibly near and possibly farling…
could it be real, or implausibly vague?
Undoubted a riddle, a vision arcane!”


Methinks the young boatman some secrtes did see,
Of the love lorn monk from the twelfth century –
His account although rambling, incoherant and wild,
Reveals thatalong Lakeside strange magic was styled.


The ghost, I reveal, was meerely a shade,
A sad memory left behind – in love’s grief it was made.
For the young boatman has described in no uncertain detail,
That Robin Goodfellow himself has taken the old monk through the veil!

Ponder then, if as you live you do wonder –
Where do they go – those whom love takes assunder.
And though shadows may fall and shades reach very tall,
Beyond every kind of knowing, 
to the green of the growing 
we are all in thrall.

c.Celestial Elf 2014.
A Ghostly Tale of the Lake District, rewritten.

Original poem written and narrated by Celestial Elf, adapted from a Lake District legend.

 

The ghost was formerly a monk in Medieval times from Furness Abbey, his mission had been the rescue of a fallen women. He however fell completely in love with one such woman, whose rejection sent him madly crying his anguish on the heights of Claife, until he died of a broken heart and his ghost has haunted the region ever since.

Whilst the local ferrymen knew not to collect his fare across the lake after dark, many years later a new ferryman with little belief in the old legends mistook his cry for a call, and he went out for the fare. When he returned however, his hair had turned white, he never spoke again and died soon after. In the original story, soon after this a priest came and contained the ghostly presence to a cavern where he still may be.

In my adaptation of this tale I have allowed for the young ferryman to rant and rave about what he saw, which had clearly unsettled him, as any experience with the supernatural is likely to do to most folks. Here, the ghost remains, but he is meerely a shadow cast by the grief that killed the monk. I have introduced ‘Robin Goodfellow’ to explain how despite its ghostly origins this is nevertheless a love story. The monk’s spirit has infact been taken away to realms beyond the real, love is a magical story after all…

Photograph; Windemere co Andy Naler.

About Furness Abbey

Furness Abbey, or St. Mary of Furness is a former monastery located in the northern outskirts of Barrow-in-Furness, Cumbria, founded in 1123 by Stephen, Count of Boulogne for the Order of Savigny. Located in the ‘Vale of Nightshade’, south of Dalton-in-Furness, Furness Abbey was once the second wealthiest and most powerful Cistercian monastery in the country.

The monks of the abbey were large landowners, and the most powerful body in what was then a remote border territory. In particular, they were heavily influential on the Isle of Man.

Being about 70 miles down the coast from Scotland, the monks occasionally found themselves in between the regularly warring Scots and English. When Robert the Bruce invaded England, the abbot paid to lodge and support him, rather than risk losing the wealth and power of the abbey.

The Abbey was disestablished and destroyed in 1537 during the English Reformation under the order of Henry VIII.

Ghosts At The Abbey
There are many stories and sightings claiming that Furness Abbey is haunted, with three main ghosts;

Firstly, one of the monks that was brutally murdered in the Reformation is said to be seen climbing one of the staircases in the Abbey. The figure appears to be leaning on the banister as being pulled up the stairs.

Another sighting is that of a squire’s daughter and her partner. These figures were known for attempting to repair the Abbey ruins after the Reformation, one day her partner took a journey out to sea from which he never returned. It is thought that the girl went back to the Abbey every day until her death to take in the site she and her partner once loved, the track she walked is today still known as “My Lady’s Walk.” There have also been many sightings of a White Lady, although it is unknown whether the White lady and the ghost of the squire’s daughter are the same person or not.

Possibly the most famous ghost of Furness Abbey is a headless monk on horseback, who rides underneath the sandstone arch near the Abbey Tavern, this death of this individual is also likely to be attributed to the Reformation.

 

 

Of “Robin Goodfellow”

Robin Goodfellow” or Puck as he has been known since medieval times, is one of the most popular characters in English and Celtic folklore, being a faerie, elf or hobgoblin  famous for shape-shifting and misleading travellers, but also known to sometimes be a helpful domestic sprite. ( More about Puck through the Ages here ).

Puck’s euphemistic ‘disguised’ name is “Robin Goodfellow” or Hobgoblin, in which “Hob” may substitute for “Rob” or simply refer to the “Goblin of the Hearth” the Hob. The earliest reference to Robin Goodfellow as such is from 1531. However, after Meyerbeer’s successful opera Robert le Diable (1831), neo-medievalists and occultists began to apply the name of Robin Goodfellow to the (christian) Devil, with appropriately extravagant imagery. Puritans, like Robert Burton, felt fairies were devils, including “Hobgoblins, & Robin Goodfellows”. In his Anatomy of Melancholy , Burton writes “Terrestrial devils, are those Lares, Genii , Faunes, Satyrs, Wood-nymphs, Foliots, Fairies, Robin Goodfellowes , Trulli, etc. which as they are most conversant with men, so they do them most harme.” (Quoted in A Dictionary of Fairies by Katharine Briggs, p.53)

Robin Goodfellow’s Dream of Fairyland · John Franklin

 

Aside from William Shakespeare‘s famous use of Robin Goodfellow in his play A Midsummer Night’s Dream, many other writers have referred to him as well, including Ben Jonson in his 1612 masque Love Restored which is a ‘vindication of love from wealth – a defense of the court revels against the strictures of the puritan city.’.  Jonson describes Puck/Robin Goodfellow as the emissary of Oberon, the Fairy King of the Night, inspiring night-terrors in old women but also carding their wool while they sleep, leading travelers astray, taking the shape of animals, blowing out the candles to kiss the girls in the darkness, twitching off their bedclothes, or making them fall out of bed on the cold floor, tattling secrets, and changing babes in cradles with elflings. All his work is done by moonlight, and his mocking, echoing laugh is “Ho ho ho!”

Ever mysterious, both young and old – sometimes male, sometimes female, with his capricious wit, magical fancy and fun-loving spirit, he plays with mortals as if they were mere puppets. Yet at the end of Shakespeares’s Midsummmer Nights Dream (in the epilogue), Puck’s speech explaining his actions compares the audience to the lovers whom in the play did awaken from the mad happenings of the fairy world as if from a dream;

“If we shadows have offended,

Think but this, and all is mended:

That you have but slumbered here,

While these visions did appear;

And this weak and idle theme,

No more yielding but a dream,

Gentles, do not reprehend.

If you pardon, we will mend.

And, as I’m an honest Puck,

If we have unearned luck

Now to ’scape the serpent’s tongue,

We will make amends ere long;

Else the Puck a liar call:

So, good night unto you all.

Give me your hands, if we be friends,

And Robin shall restore amends.”

(W.Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act IV, scene II).
Puck’s quote above is perfect as an allegory of this mortal coil. As in Jonson’s play, Shakespeare and others have taken pains to make clear that whilst Robin Goodfellow is indeed mischevious and mercurial, an embodiment of the power of magic, he also represents the difficulties of love which elevate our human selves beyond the mundane of our mortal lives. In our love then, were we said to die to our old life and discover another, we might apprehend the worlds where magical beings reside, such as Puck perhaps, to join with them in a dance of the mysterium ad infinitum.

In this vein I found the spirit of Robin Goodfellow to be dancing through the Claife Crier ghost story which although tragic, is afterall still a love story of sorts. Puck has whispered in my ear, that despite appearances to the contrary, those whom love has led awry will never be abandoned in their ardour. Though the object of their affections may turn aside, if love is true, they will indeed be spirited away – to awaken in a higher realm where their heart has led them.

For any who are curious to learn more about the ways of the fay, the enchanted realms and how to apprehend them, I can do no better than to highly recommend
Serena Roney-Dougal The Faery Faith: An Integration of Science with Spirit.

Fear not mortal folk, your human heart cannot betray you, 

but by beinge truye will lead you through,

Another world awaits you.

From Puck, Good Luck ~

Narration Of The Gnome

 

This is the tale of the Wizard Gnome,

Much misunderstood in the whispering gloam,

He tends to the Earth, where we make our home,

Seldom seen for he wanders alone.

This is a glimpse into sights Unknown….


Invisible is not a lack of sight, but lack of some perception,

Thus by dreaming-gaze and see, ethereal ethers conception,

Conjured beyond the boundaries of consciousness reception,

A vision, of infinite inter connection….


I request the people to come forth –

The people of the Wave and Earth and Air –

In a right-ways motion opening,

Apotheosis spirit fair –


To the creatures called the minerals, shining clear and glowing bright,

I gather Cosmic Energies to weave into this night –

To the creatures called the plant forms, growing green into the dance,

I gather for the learning, none more to the point- advance –


Gentle be and beautiful see,

In Hollows, Hills and Flowers,

In Stones and Springs and Lakes and Rain,

We will discover Powers….


Long mankind assigned to Gnome dark treasure hording plight,

Plundered Earth to seize it all to own and keep with might,

Long mankind has split them both, the kin of light and life,

Forsook fair ways of kindness for a secret trove of strife.


With sorcery and skill of Wizard,

A Convocation gathers –

In mystery and wonder thee,

Heart wisdom all that matters.


Gnome’s message for the telling, twilight time is here,

The Universe sends Blessing, Vibrations, Energy, Sheer…

The Wisdom of the Universe through gift of Second Sight,

The treasure of Earth’s crystals, to amplify your hearing, right.


Beneath the Sun and Moon and Stars,

Beyond the woods and mountains climbing –

Within the circles of the Earth,

A Mystic power is rising –


From moonbeams woven magics, and starlight of the skies,

electro-magnetic-missives, consecrated, wise,

From allies of your Ancient times the message here implies,

The treasures that you’r seeking are right before your eyes.


Sacred springs sing a song,

And travelling clouds do bring it,

Across the speckled gateway,

The pathway to within It.


A caution here to Earth-dwellers from dreamers of the Moon,

To the diggers of the deepness for resources reckless tune,

To the farmers of each other for some imaginary boon…

A reminder of the Harmony, lest end come all to soon.


I sorcerize the land and stones,

and lifekind all about –

With pece and joy, eternity –

With never any doubt.


To the Tree-eaters, Bee-beaters and genetically contrived,

Oil seekers, Earth reapers and otherwise deprived,

To the Old faith and the New faith that seekers have applied,

Portals of perception are here for you, Arrived.


By the blessing of both far tides,

And the nearness of the Now –

Set aside all such missguides,

Let the light shine from your brow –


Such were the words of the Wizard Gnome,

The mysterious truth – a stepping stone.

To enter into their magickal places.

Look beyond sight to your inner spaces –


Deep Peace of Wave and Earth and Air,

Your Blessing found is everywhere –

 

 

 A Guide for The Perplexed

 The Wizard Gnome here sets forth both a guide for people to access the higher frequencies, to open to an awareness of the other realms coexisting with us on the Earth, along with a timely caution against the consequences of an unrestrained and predatory commercial materialism for the individual spirit concerned and Earths Ecosphere as a whole.

Of particular relevance to any modern perceiver of Gnome wisdom, the caution of the Gnome’s narration is about neglecting care and kindness to the Earth at our own peril, of energy imbalances and overloading of magnetic fields causing ill health to the Earth and its ecosphere, which in turn closes down our portals of perception and understanding, further reducing our capability to change. Such factors as the desecration of the unique biological diversity of Earth species, as is the case for many Trees, Bees and Butterflies for example, both a crucial signifier of how far mankind has strayed from a cooperative concord with our Earth-Nature, the source of our physical selves and has further consequences such as the eventual collapse of the life sustaining systems which relied on these co-residents to oxygenate, pollinate and in countless other ways generate the world as we know it. Should some among human kind hope to follow them, the pathways to the higher realms are not paved with asphalt and ashes like some modern Mordoor of doom, nor sold by the meter, liter or beaker only to those who can afford, but are to be found within the organic-spiritual harmony of lifekind freely shared, the communal birth right of all who dwell upon the Earth. The pathways to the higher realms are congruent upon and found within the synergistic symphony of Cosmic energy as united in one great song of celebration, which is the vibration of life and delight.

The call itself is simple, seek within – find your spiritual center and look forth from this vantage point with new eyes already equipt to see the blessings that Universe and Eternity have bathed us in, become the change and once you have understood it – share the message.

 

About The Gnome;

A Gnome is an Elemental being or spirit of energy and as such they are commonly invisible to the average person, only those that utilize second sight can see them clearly, thus they symbolize the magical realms they inhabit of the world outside the boundaries of human consciousness; although they cherish the Earth, they are already beyond the threshold of the physical. Many believe the various forms of the Elementals come from a different realm, traveling between our realm and theirs at their leisure through energy portals where there is an overlaping of realms (possibly located at ley line junctions or electro magnetic focus points such as ancient stone circles) and were once more prevalent upon the physical Earth, thus the origins of myth and legends. Accordingly, Quantum Physics theories now propose that there are an infinity of parallel universes much like our own and the conjecture is that in some of these universes creatures who are merely fable and mythology here, still exist there. The name ‘Gnome’ itself comes from the Latin word ‘gnoma’ which means ‘Knowledge’ as in ‘gnomic poetry’ which is comprised of aphoristic verses that contain short, memorable statements of traditional wisdom and morality. Some say that this name was given to them by the medieval scholar Paracelsus who deduced of their existence in his alchemical and metaphysical extrapolations.

Known as guardians of treasure hidden deep within the Earth, Gnomes are guardians not only of the Earth and Earth minerals such as crystals, but also of the plant forms, specifically they tend to the roots of the plants.

Plant forms receive direct transmissions of ethereal energy from the Cosmos and through their roots they feed these powers into the Earth where Gnomes collect them as spiritual information to store in crystals for further distribution to heal Energy field imbalances and so help Earth-kind to develop along the higher evolutionary pathways.  

Thus the Gnomes are actually the bearers of the ideas of the universe and  the crystals with which they are associated are merely amplifiers to aid others such as human beings to receive these ideas and energies.

Such Cosmic energy or knowledge is subtle, powerful and direct, when Gnomes receive this information they obtain immediate understanding and wisdom. Having gathered countless numbers of such energy transmissions over the millenia, Gnomes are therefore very compassionate creatures and may aid simpler creatures, including human beings, if they are kind of heart, honest in manner and considerate of nature. If you have been aided by a Gnome you will probably receive a crystal or gemstone, although because Gnomes exist outside of our usual perceptive parameters, the gift will likely be expressed through a human friend. Alternately they may arrange for you to find the crystal by serendipitous means.

Some whispered legends claim that the predecessors of the Earth-Gnomes are the Moon-Gnomes, who in times beyond measure gathered together their Moon-dream-experiences and fashioned the Earth from them, but whether this is meant allegorically or upon a different level of reality, I cannot be sure. Gnomes are however nocturnal beings and sensitive to the influences of the moon.

If you wish to invoke a Gnome or seek its aid, you might go to an ancient wooded area where the energies have had decades to gather – naturally a full moon on a clear night is best for such procedures, and meditationally call to it as the Elemental guardian of the ages. Without prejudice or partisan particularities then present the cause which brought you thither and then wait with patience and an opened heart until the time of telling has peacefully passed. Do not expect any immediate or sudden materialization of your answer however, as the solution needed or new path to follow may take some time for a willing Gnome to arrange within the confines of our Earth bound existence.

Enter The Portals of Perception, See The Truth And Blessed Be ~

 

Excerpts From The Pook Of Pok

Pok the Bard introduces himself , enchanter and poet of the fae, he portrays the beauties of this magic land and all the beings herein, explaining how he has protected this wonder for us, bids us enter in. Dancing his words past riddles clothed in myth and mystery, Pok evokes and invocates in us new senses, empowering us with love to break the bonds that beset the beauty of this realm, to mend an earth and set sacred spirit to reign….

Summon Sorcerers
From Ancient depths of myth 

An incarnate joy
Where combined troubadours Run circus rings
Where ripples run from drop
And I appear
Dealing chessboards
MET 

Where stretch the squares
The black the white
Journey of vivid logic
To teach of life’s cause
And the opposition of fates
Begin Oh Tournament
It’s A Game…

Thus it was at Goatstone Rounds
Pok first proclaimed these feiry sounds
His love of Her
His loth of war
True he hopes you will do him proud
To speak out loud
Declare beneath any tree
Your loves
For they are worthwhile
Acts live and acts inspire
And as story fires are rising higher
Make a fun that once begun
Will spread like wild about this land
Breathe a world that joyous sings
In market place where prophets
Bring their offerings
And ours for you
For is there any we can loose?

Speak We Gnomes
Sat, each our pipe in hand
On dice
Calling you to our ring of eyes
The twirl of minds wrist is our work
The slip of tricks that soar us from the mundane
In circles dream emerging
Our construction from talksome shiftstick spins
Maker, that portrays lavish dreams
And founds them here
So as we sit
We throw our glory into life
Dreams that stir from these depths alight
Bringing their fantastic visions
So hopscotch we between black and white
As dazzled we be in door’s open light

It is I Pok who speak
Who fell from Bok
To scream
At first
Then tell tales
Who calls earth She
And nestles ‘neath the old oak tree

So now we stand at place entrance
Where Pokke sometimes does he dance
Shows y through his sparrow’s eye
His intimate bower
It’s walls and towers
Murals, flowers
Balustrades, a rose and eldern crosses
Bracken, briar and moistly mosses
Courts within a garden glade
I’ll show you round, it is ok
I have kept safe an ancient land
Draw now near and understand
That I will let you in my gate
Between two hills the worlds relate
Hear the cittern’s magic drone
Feel the pull, moon’s magic moan.
Feeling tears of diamond rain
Falling on our brows again

Now

Open door you star clad guide
Let us the magic dragon ride

Those two hills
The Goatstone Rounds
Are places where we make our sounds
Are bowers, you should understand
Were worms of earth do song the land

And for Pok
True, no sword
But Elfin silver gauntlet drew
And down it threw.
Here is faith a riddle round
A pooka place a peace palace
Where worlds of words entreat
A dodman root
In glades of games of life we meet
These will echo down the wastes
To true Kingdoms
Earth-heart’s prize of timely wealth
And each a ley through stones old throat
This ancient land in stars so cloaked
Is blessed with poklamations croak
A trumpet for a new dawn’s hope

It is the Buddha’s will
And we sit with him
Within circles concentric
The five point star
And lotos fall
How star wondered
Patterns
On Taleteller’s brow
Sacred diamonds or Egyptian curls
Take us there
Remind us
Somehow
This is how we do it

And you have been led by tragedies first prankster
Come to where Pokke old crow now bows
His body pulsing with other lights
Through his eye sparrowhawk spies
Who undefined and of no fleshes but voice only
Has described a glorious ark
Which, it is agreed, it is assured
Will sail you through new senses
To see truths in strange verse
That will remain when spell is broken
Mend an earth when words are spoken

Who does work now crisis come
With gourd and voice and beaten drum?
With Deva, Sylph and Dragon King
Flaming Centaurs and wild dancers
Weave and wield
A cloth where is none
Weave and wield
Take to the field
With love magics
To break a sterner enchantment.

To play Musics in this Sacred Place

And

Put an End

To War’s Disgrace.

 Excerpts from the Pook of Pok, written, narrated and music by Pok The Bard

Explanation Of The Verse;

Pok tells us what its all about and sets off revolutions of love beneath all and every tree of his domain, setting off story fires and fun that spreads like wild, that are offered about the world we live in.

It flows out like waves and tendrils spreading out from the source. Its the circus people jugglers and clowns, minstrels and acrobats busking the streets, reaching people.

Pok dances in the Goatstones and they travel though dimensions.

The gnomes come by one by one to form a ring (of eyes) entering into that location from their realm somewhere else.

A council of gnomes whom, we must assume, are sage and up to the moment on current affairs. The dice they sit on are big, at least 6 feet on their side, six sided dice with dots for numbers.

Their talksome shift stick is based on the talking stick from rainbow circles, where the stick is passed round and the holder of it speaks their mind. Here it is sort of a spinning of creativity, born from the gnomes ‘construction’ in our real world, the place we are gathered, the Sacred space. These lavish dreams are being brought into the real world. Dreams alight, they take off, it seems into more visions. But what else can this be in a poem? And what are our visions? what do we envision?

As we follow this vision, Pok plays hopscotch down the squares directly towards the open door of light, and others follow.. The doors are but a third open and letting in a lot of light. Pok dances up first and closes the door so that only a chink of light comes through. We have arrived at an important location. This is the ‘place entrance’ the threshold to the Citadel.

((This is a missing detail here, where Pok is reticent at first to let his guests into the Pook. On the threshold he lectures his listeners on their shortcomings (he is a spacegoat of course, not human, or only a third human) Pok holds the door to his eager curious guests, making them have to wait while he tells the story of his birth.))

The creation of Pok. Bok is a vast spirit, a daemon beyond speech. He oozzes with energy and the first drop falls from him causing ripples in the nothingness, causes the first vibration which was the voice of Bok via his more streamlined off-spurt, Pok.

This terrible exposure causes the screams of Pok,

but he reconditions himself to refine these raw feelings into somethin more accessable…into tales.

Pok makes it clear that he is aligned to the Goddess and that he is somewhat of a hedger and we are soon to be taken into the heart of the Pook.

The listeners are still waiting at the doors. At first Pok only permits a glimpse ‘Shows y through his sparrows eye’ he is lookin through an ‘eye’ made by making the shape of one between your thumb and first finger and peekin through it. ‘Draw now near and understand’ …he still hasn’t let them in!!

Now a funny thing happens, the door gets called a gate, then it becomes 2 hills. These are regular smooth roundball hills, not two high, with a cleft between them. Not exactly like a generous pair of breasts yet reminiscent of such. Strange weather is happening behind them, we hear the cittern, see the moon and yes, a storm – the diamond rain falls on us all.

The doors are flung wide, dimension travel, dragons and giant space worms offer their backs to riders. We see the landscape we have travelled lighting up along the leylines where we have made songlines.

Pok then throws down the gauntlet to minds willing to go on from here. A Pook is made here, the ‘peace palace/gay marquee’…(just like at a festival) a pledge for himself and a call out for others, a call that itself is an inner or outer temple formed from these declarations.  All it is made of here, is words and games.

A dodman is an old word for a snail. The snail’s eye stalks are like the geomancer’s two rods, hence the ley energy moving through the stones….Trumpets herald a fanfare and smash our preconceptions like the sea crashing against the rocks and cliffs, and we are transported into the next location, a fully far gone zone -maybe also temporally connected to the Goatstone Rounds. Like the barbury ring crop circle, the wisdom of Buddha speaking though tales from antiquity, Egypt and the stars. Like concentric rings floatings in space with crop circles and other geometric images, the pentacle and petals if you will.

It is the cosmic node of knowing , the seat of lion kings, the initiatory self dissolver that sends you to your zodiac mother and gives you your next real name.

Finally Pok bows to his listeners, telling them of the efficacious nature of what he has described and constructed with words that are his only flesh, and he is dematerialising.

Pok asks who will take up this cause, to work with the devic forces, to make a fabric out of nothing,  to wield this, which is what one does with a weapon. To go out in the world and take to the field with these love magics we have found here…..

You can read more of Pok The Bard’s poetry at his Blog

Blessed Be The Bard and Thee ~

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