Photograph taken inside my New Age store by Theresa F Koch.
She pointed at me and yelled you’re a Star Person, look
I looked at the sky sighed a bit so I’ve been called worse
He walked in my shop grabbed my hand, feel the energy
I looked at his aura then ignored the ignorance, what energy?
Life is strange when you work with the oddities of levels
People seem to believe this is it, change your thoughts
Meditation clears the dirt from your other eye, see?
I love to look within the person then without the body
I like my space but the ghosts that live there talk too much
So I open my door each day drink some coffee black, waiting
You never know what sideshow will enter this cavern
From incense to healing bowls they come for the spirit
I on the other hand I learn from their existence their lights
So read a book sit awhile enjoy the show of the new age
Because it’s all been played before outside this space
Oh here comes the Mohawk who swears I am a shaman
Those ghosts like attention. Not many people give it to them. Saw a little girl in the field at my work the other night. She was darting around; quite frantic. The next night I went to work, there was a hole dug where I'd seen her darting. The building has been having flood problems. I think she was trying to tell me that the problem was in the field, where the sewer lines are...a block. Sounds like your communication with them is much stronger, Shaman Theresa...lol. It also sounds like you have the perfect place to encounter them! I enjoyed this piece! Hugs.
Sheila
Woow this is a great store
I think Fee is right a perfect place
To hang Expect I don't have a guitar?
Stunning imagery and flow!
Excellent write
Peace Love and Light....Morning Star
thought provoking interesting verse T, watch those ghost, oh that's right we can't see them
Reviewed by Robert Koch (Reader)
Reviewed on July 22, 2008
Remember when that wiccan group circled your shop and said they were trying to tap into your energy? Or the people who thought they were vampires ordered dresses from you. What a fun place honey.
Love yeah,
Bob
This is not a drill. The attack on Pearl. They were the ghost planes of the night, deadly, illusive, sharp-clawed Black Cats. The Memoirs of ARM H.P. Lawrence, a Pearl Harbor survivor, Black Cat, and decorated war veteran.
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Love, Janet xoxoxo
Sheila
Regis
Sandie May :o)
Newfie hugs, Rose
I think Fee is right a perfect place
To hang Expect I don't have a guitar?
Stunning imagery and flow!
Excellent write
Peace Love and Light....Morning Star
Harold M. Nash
hugs
Fee
Love yeah,
Bob