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Quote by Stewart Stafford

“The Lighthouse by Stewart Stafford Apart and alone, From where the ships dock, Stands the white sentinel edifice on a promontory rock. Like the land's index finger, At the extent of the sea, Warning passing vessels where it's safe to be. It's one luminous eye, Swivels around its clear head, To keep lucky sailors off the seabed. It seeks no credit, And needs no thanks, Saluting proudly from above the fog banks. © Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.”

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Stewart Stafford

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“BEE QUEEN Be not scared oh beetles of the earth Be at peace for the Queen Bee flaps for the preys. Your safety abide oh Queen of the Bee for your grace is only for the bees. The earth cry for empathy and your smiles brightened her fate When darkness whispers, your glow splashes Your beauty is like a thorn, it penetrates even the hardest feelings Your nest awaits your grace oh Queen mother Poem by Victor Vote for Yetunde Kayode ©️2021 by VVF”

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“OKU NMA, THE PRINCESS OF LIGHT "And behold, all I see is mercy and grace" cried out the King over the Crown of the Princess of Light. As a bearer of good tidings, I turned to the King and cried out "Behold the peace of the Kingdom of Light". Ada Di Oma, the beauty from the land of the Kings. Oh Princess of Light, the bird through which goodness is spat into the hearts of men. The Bride to the perfect Groom. Let your reigning be heard across the Greenland. Poem by Victor Vote for Philomena Ndu Ezechukwu @©️2021 by VVF”

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“The Walker by Stewart Stafford The walker takes a step forward, Positive but possibly fatal to them, Brave but perhaps foolishly ambitious to onlookers. Concentration and breathing, the antidote to cynicism, The pole, like cat’s whiskers, In feline prance. Moment to moment, Heartbeat to heartbeat, The procession continues. With creeping inevitably, The destination is reached, And the walker falls to their death. Another adventurer steps out onto the wire, A descendant of the expired walker, Determined to complete life’s tightrope. © Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.”

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“Pomona's Feast by Stewart Stafford Home from aggressive begging on November Eve, A horror movie that won't be finished in the background, The pirate's booty or robber's swag is examined. Face in the bag, a cornucopia of scents in the nostrils: Oranges, nuts, burnt popcorn, chocolate, Toffee apples, crisps, Liquorice Allsorts, and Rice Krispie cakes. A smörgåsbord Pomona's feast begins, As a maternal voice advises frugality, To no avail. Noses in the trough, Nothing eaten bears any relation to the thing eaten before or after, Aching gums, jaws, and bellies swiftly ensue. To bed to sleep it off, The next morning, it's déjà vu, The maternal voice again advises eating breakfast first, to no avail. © Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.”

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“The Unknowable Scribe by Stewart Stafford Behind the looking glass, Lurks the trembling hand of deception, How deep it goes. Scratching worthlessly on the glass, Yet leaving diamond shavings in its wake, To ponder over endlessly. Question not, despise not, Seek no answers here For there are none to give. The cygnet is mooncalf, To the mighty swan, Cat's paw to catchpenny. Birther to birthing, A classification of bedding, To redress the baseness of our grindings. © Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.”

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