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“The Christmas Child by Stewart Stafford O this world’s resplendent beauty, Halting breath of sheer mortal me, Words in my throat pause freely, My eyes overflow involuntarily. Salted joy’s bittersweet reign. Sculptors can your looks ne’er feign, The greatest reward gifted to me, Wrenched away in coldest larceny. Death shall hold no fear, I say, With your sweet face to light my way, At precipice edge, a smitten retinue, My beloved, restored, so we continue. © 2024, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.” — Stewart Stafford
The Christmas Child by Stewart Stafford
O this world’s resplendent beauty,
Halting breath of sheer mortal me,
Words in my throat pause freely,
My eyes overflow involuntarily.
Salted joy’s bittersweet reign.
Sculptors can your looks ne’er feign,
The greatest reward gifted to me,
Wrenched away in coldest larceny.
Death shall hold no fear, I say,
With your sweet face to light my way,
At precipice edge, a smitten retinue,
My beloved, restored, so we continue.
© 2024, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.