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Quote by Stewart Stafford

“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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“For Your Consideration by Stewart Stafford Stellar Scrutiny is required, Taffeta blindfolds though, Ordinarily obscure. Three and fifty miles hence, Wander those in denial, Of the untrustworthy father in the palace. Belated guests to the conflagration, Are served up as fodder, Consistently denied peerages and proper burial. Venerated with daggers, Erstwhile companions stoned, Ruled And Martyred. © Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.”

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“Sweet Elephant of the Morning by Stewart Stafford O sweet elephant of the morning, What loud noise you make, With your leaden feet, And trumpet voice. You spray water, On your thick, dusty skin, And on anyone in proximity, To your body. Your trunk is a grey, reaching arm, And your tusks resemble curved lances, Or elongated walrus teeth, To fight off rivals. © Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.”

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“THE BIRD, MFONISO Not with the eyes of an eagle, for it sees and preys But the eyes of a pelican has your nature be built The selfless blood to revive those dying even if it hurts Your elegance with the tweeting melodies Your lips with the news of hope Let the flowers bow as you make flaps to land Your eyes with the flashing flowers Roses beneath your print blossom For nature got envy when your cheeks part Your tears waters every soul from a distance Your feelings are theirs in reflection And Empathy bows to your glow Daniel amongst the lions Oh Mfoniso, bird speaks great tidings Poem by Victor Vote for Mfoniso Daniel ©️2021 - VVF”

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Book:Keeping Spirituality
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“SAILORS ABOARD Whispering like wind amidst the tempest Is the calm sea beneath the tides The waters that rise in harmony with the moon How be it that nature adores on element with grace It's all smooth when the sailors sails The flapping flings, the life beneath it The graceful shine that illuminates grayscale Let the earth move for life is only beneath An irony beyond the minds of the children of men Daughter of the sea, the sail be smooth. Poem by Victor Vote for Henrieta Chine”

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“In Old Savannah by Stewart Stafford Quaking earth unleashed, An immigrant stands proud in the mêlée, Takes up the standard of his adopted country, And joins the charge. Blind in the cannon smoke, Grapeshot ricochets past, Then the patriot holds his gut, And falls bleeding. His wife awakes, To see his apparition at the foot of their bed, Morose and fading fast, Tears hang like ever-present Spanish moss on live oak. The immigrant stands proudly once more, Motionless and eternal on the plinth, A child with his father at the base points up at him, With future glory in his eyes. © Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.”

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