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“The Word by Stewart Stafford Though I am gone, at last, you see, Everything I spoke heralds true, Cleansing your wrongs done to me, In promised vistas of unlimited hue. If I stayed, they said you would pay, I took the strain, assured you sanctuary, I am the sentinel that prepares the way, Evolving beyond the dusty ossuary. Words in strange clothing upon sharing, By living, know your shadow's meaning, Familiarity flourishes upon the wearing, Shepherd's flock on rich pastures weaning. © 2025, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.” — Stewart Stafford
The Word by Stewart Stafford
Though I am gone, at last, you see,
Everything I spoke heralds true,
Cleansing your wrongs done to me,
In promised vistas of unlimited hue.
If I stayed, they said you would pay,
I took the strain, assured you sanctuary,
I am the sentinel that prepares the way,
Evolving beyond the dusty ossuary.
Words in strange clothing upon sharing,
By living, know your shadow's meaning,
Familiarity flourishes upon the wearing,
Shepherd's flock on rich pastures weaning.
© 2025, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.