Spiritualists Poems - Poems about Spiritualists

Spiritualists interact My Dad's Colloquium was arranged at best. Also, Memorial Hall to inaugurate on his honor Everything was scheduled and program well set. I was unaware: Am I entitled to speak in...

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Generous they are by spirit and mind Just by listening to their thoughts Their excelence attract thousands Each time craving to give more They foil themselves to remain pure In darkness they look to heaven In daylight they pray for eternity Ghosthunter spiritualists, they say Once the gates were locked There was no turning back Their will endures by patience And so does...

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Life is the embodiment of the unique existence, the construct of universal elements nature chose to manifest distinctively with the divine essence in the unparallel trinity of body, mind and soul. Beneath the surface of perceptive mortal senses the mind builds all the dreams it desires to see. Haunted by unreal apparitions in fear it invents suffering the superstitious spell of...

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Many people don’t believe and are skeptics today Ghost and spirits are made up rumors they say People making up stories to manipulate and prey I am a not a skeptic due to my experience one day We lived an old Victorian house on a hill Thinking back to that day still gives me a chill I was a child, not...

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G goblins, ghouls and ghosts H haunted houses, blood running cold with fright O ornery children threatened by them S so they will submit to harried parents T ...

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The trouble with sceptics is they boast There is no way there can be any ghosts They say spiritualists operate in great error And create their own manufactured terror Spirits can influence the inviting human mind And have done so since Biblical times So to comment on your theory of Ideomotor effect Let us take time to seriously reflect That the supernatural can...

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Seances seem to me Are all pretense and foolery, When it comes to mediums Just charlatans, and tedium. And tarot readings, what are they Just money grabbers out to play, Despite all this I believe Our loved ones visit when we grieve. But an audience plays no part For my loved one dwells within my heart, She visits me, and me alone Not in a...

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Through the years I have heard stories and Had myself strange occurrences I can only call bizarre In my heart of hearts I have come to only one conclusion There is no need to describe the world in terms of black and white What is the use of being categorical When it’s only a matter of time When we cross over And answers will become crystal...

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