Tuesday, February 28, 2017

The Mars Effect...

Post by AquarianM on Oct 28, 2005 at 3:07am

The Mars Effect...

It last came so close in A.D. 2003,
And a nation of law turned to its first un-provoked war,
The Red Planet was burning in the sky,
God of anger was rending spirits from their bones,
Looking for what wasn't there while Baghdad burned.

Marching along in the sky he raged far and wide,
The anguish and misery festering like a boil under the skin,
Maimings and flag-draped heroes falling home,
Angry faces in the desert exploding with rage,
Giving a "go home Yankee" bang on every street corner.

October first 2005 saw the warrior planet start walking backwards,
Mars retrograde at his closest approach in 60,000 years this Halloween night,
Right next to the severed head of the Medusa,
A malignant star called Caput Algol whose baleful glow has darkened history,
A time for leaders to lose their heads or their way,
Time for a very cautious step as the stars are serving dangerous beauty.

When you see the sky on Saturday night,
Look for his baleful bright red eye in the East,
And wonder which way the knives of fate will dart,
It's a whole new era rough and tumble starting in,
Yet when the Red God finally wanders away,
Will we recover from the Mars effect?


By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 10/28/2005

Author's Comments:
For more insight on this particular Mars retrograde, see the below two linked sites.
Mars retrograde occurs when the planet appears from our perspective to be moving
backward across the sky. It's strongest effects are at the "station" points, where the planet
appears stopped in the sky, and it lasts until the planet passes back over the point where it
first stationed and starts gaining ground in it's proper direction again.



Monday, February 27, 2017

Mile Markers...

Post by AquarianM on Oct 25, 2005 at 7:11pm

Mile Markers...

Another mile whispered by,
A season on the road behind,
As daylight fades into starry night,
Where do we seem to fly?

Every leaf of memory fallen away and passed,
Another piece of existence and I wonder,
Is there a great book somewhere,
Something it will take an eternity to read,
Speaking volumes about love and lies,
What would it say of me and mine?

Another year now passing by,
Tires on pavement moaning hum,
Who sits in the passenger seat,
Are they filled with happy love,
The radio is a small thing - just part of the road,
Blaring out things out of sight of pavement.

It's nice to know of pot holes and rain clouds,
When to roll the windows down,
But kissing in the back seat under red Autumn trees,
That's what seals the gold of summer to my heart,
The foundations of you and me,
A leaf in a vast pile rather than one swirling in the breeze.


By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 10/25/2005
"For Saren."

Sunday, February 26, 2017


Post by AquarianM on Nov 10, 2005 at 8:07am


The lies that are told are no longer on hold,
The ice is all melting to reveal what it kept,
Every corner is filled with light,
Angels are circling and guiding moonbeams through the cobwebs,
The covers are all thrown back,
Pulled wool now faces Spring's sharp shears,
The scales will creep back into balance,
All the creeps will find dark corners,
Standing behind iron-barred shadows,
Sunlight streams into the cell they painted themselves into,
Meanwhile the mystic walks with a wooden staff,
Mumbling sunshine spells for poets to spill,
An afterthought of the Green Man dancing beneath Autumn trees.


By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 11/10/2005

Saturday, February 25, 2017


Post by AquarianM on Nov 10, 2005 at 8:09am


They call him Orion and he hunts the night skies,
Appearing above just as Winter wakes from Summer's heat,
You can see a sword hanging at his belt in the cool nights,
Yet not so many know what it guards,
What drives the hunter to the drawn bow.

A mystery it took Galileo and at least a century to resolve.

Right there,
Tucked away in that sword sheath,
Orion's nursery - a nebula where new stars are forming,
The fires of creation lend their soft glow to our nights,
Gracing Fall nights with a harvest of new light,
I've always wanted to go there.

The first thing I ever pointed a university telescope at.


By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 11/05/2005

Friday, February 24, 2017

Falling Leaves...

Post by AquarianM on Oct 25, 2005 at 9:07am

Falling Leaves...

Leaf falls slowly down,
Orange Autumn sign of God,
Beautiful cool rain.

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 10/25/2005

Thursday, February 23, 2017

Under Charcoal Skies...

Post by AquarianM on Nov 14, 2005 at 9:18pm

Under Charcoal Skies...

The winds are dancing the trees like wild Heathens,
Shuddering the last of their leaves from branches too chill to resist,
Cold rain drops fly down coat necks as we lean into our steps,
Awaiting the hushed blanket of white we're soon promised.

Swirling multicolored leaves tornado in the streets,
Rustling at the door like lost waifs in a magic palette,
Burning with the last wisps of the harvest season,
About to gift the Earth for the new year's growth to come.

The black shapes of geese and sparrows punctuate the dimming light,
Their flowing geometry in flocked flight a sign of abandonment,
The Sun is falling South and so shall they,
Bursting from the cornfields of dimming gold stubble and bare-stick trees.

Bluster faces those who decorate the landscape,
Braving the washed-out light of Autumn's wane,
Seeking the soul secrets within this simple grey space,
Walking the Earth paths under charcoal skies.

All these skies' promises whisper simply of curtains of white.


By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 11/14/2005

Wednesday, February 22, 2017

Just A Dustin'...

Post by AquarianM on Nov 16, 2005 at 11:13pm

Just A Dustin'...

Eighteen degrees on a silent night,
Minus eight if Centigrade is your right,
A few fat flakes dancing all about in a swirling breeze,
Two coats with a scarf and ear muffs,
Don't forget the gloves or your fingers will freeze.

It's that time again,
Wishing for Summer a fruitless test,
Yet lest we forget - it's Lady winter who lets life rest,
A cycle we all really need,
Endangered seasons all to meet the need for speed.

When you glide down a slippery road,
Try it with snow shoes all wrapped up in the hush of the night,
Remember all the miracles of icicles and frost,
Adulthood left your Winter magic in ruins you say,
Still it's up to you if your inner child is really that lost.

So even just a dustin' -
It's far better than nothin' -
Let Mother Earth heal a bit before balmy days,
Time enough before Spring showers or harvest to reap,
Gaia is tired and weary - we must let her sleep.

For myself and piece of mind,
I'll throw you a snowball and put a sled under my behind.

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 11/17/2005

Tuesday, February 21, 2017

Snowflake Whispers...

Post by AquarianM on Nov 17, 2005 at 12:49am

Snowflake Whispers...

Falling in silence,
White on winds accumulate,
Swirling pearl dreamscape.


By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 11/17/2005

Monday, February 20, 2017

The Bluest Angel...

Post by AquarianM on Nov 19, 2005 at 12:33am

The Bluest Angel...

Tiny Angel, wings so blue-white,
Watch over me as I pray goodnight,
Let Mommy be safe and happy please,
You in your robes so blue, me on my knees.

I watch you fly in God's grace.

Tiny angel, flit down upon my cupped palms,
Smile up at me, singing, with no qualms.
A voice so ethereal and uplifting,
Carry my heart through a life that's shifting.

Thank you for carrying my prayers to heaven so well.

Bluer than the skies,
Angel with the bluest eyes,
Singing and free,
Thank you for loving me.

Fly always in beautiful childhood dreams.


By: Daniel A. Stafford

Author's Comments:
A dream, from very early childhood in Madison, WI.
This took place when I was three, in the time of the Dinosaur Safari.
I think it may have been inspired by watching a show on
TV about the Navy flying team, the Blue Angels.
You see, to me as a child, airplanes were the grandest
vision in the whole world. We lived off an Air Force base.
I lived in a world of fast jets, heard sonic booms before they
stopped supersonic flight over the continental USA.
I woke up crying because the dream was gone.

*One thing I should note but never have before posting this at Flowing Quills tonight: the entire dream was very vivid, but I dreampt it as if it were a Saturday morning cartoon that I was living in, like I was in the world of comic art. I never really had that piece stand out to me until now. Perhaps that's telling me something I should do...* (I just had a thought - the Fire Angel - I think she is my Bluest Angel from childhood) This was also my first paper-published work.

Sunday, February 19, 2017

All Aglow...

Post by AquarianM on Nov 27, 2005 at 11:36pm

All Aglow...

Wrap the lights around the limbs,
Spun up 'round the tree,
Post a jeweled star atop,
Plug it all in finally alight,
The season has begun as ornaments dangle,
A breeze chills through the boughs tonight,
Child eyes return like yesteryear,
A gift of lights and wonder,
It's all just so this first night lit,
You wonder if angels are dancing all around,
Replacing the darkness of burned out bulbs,
Glitter falls in spectacle upon the cool drizzled ground,
Under a grey sky on a windy night spirits high,
A day bathed in loving presence,
Holding hands to open eyes -

All aglow.


By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 11/28/2005

Saturday, February 18, 2017

A Day of Peace...

Post by AquarianM on Nov 19, 2005 at 2:43am

A Day of Peace...
It whispers under the skin like a silent need,
An itch that needs to be scratched,
We all pray we'll find it somewhere,
Under the next law where they snuck in this or that.

"Not a single drop of blood shed today."

Some of us can live and let live,
Maybe that's an excuse not to pay attention,
We think our struggle is too important for all of that,
Pooh-pooh on it all my ostrich friends.

"Peace agreements today were signed in the last conflicts on the globe."

We come home looking for dinner and the TV,
Bathing in a make-believe life instead of our own,
Wandering away from everyday miracles non-chalant,
Dulled by incessant friction like a bug in the ear.

"Poverty finally averted as the last drop of oil was burned."

It's a slick predicament filled with glassy-eyed stares,
The tired Earth is weeping of loneliness,
Her children having fallen to electronic dreams,
Too lazy to even enjoy the beach.

Just once in this life I'd love to read the headlines of a true day of peace...


By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 11/19/2005

Friday, February 17, 2017

Serious Review...

Post by AquarianM on Sep 30, 2005 at 10:39am

Serious Review...

She pushes the spectacles down her nose at another Soul left to Ponder,
Closes the window to falling leaves and beautiful colors,
Her couch is lost in the Deep Dark Woods of the Soul where we lie tied,
Seeing scene after scene of questions as a quilt of potential guilt wraps us,
Stifling and hard as the coffee grows cold like our bones,
She walks out the door leaving us to untangle the wounds and woes,
Eyes locked on the channel we are helpless to change,
She has fulfilled her mission in droves,
Thin cords will bind us beneath sight or logic,
Maybe we'll discover her sister sweeter,
A certain archetypal type called simply Resolution.


By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 09/30/2005

Thursday, February 16, 2017

Thunder Pumpkin...

Post by AquarianM on Oct 5, 2005 at 2:26am

Thunder Pumpkin...

Since that first Halloween in the Midwest,
It's been a legend of the Pumpkin Patch,
How the Great Pumpkin catches a ride.

I saw a fellow in buckskins walking the prairie trail,
Tracking his moccasins through October's morning dew,
Walking past tall golden fields of maize in the sunrise breeze,
As a hawk circled high above he stated his tale.

"Thunderbird leaves the great water of the West,
Rising high and breathing out clouds of dark breath,
Rains fall from his drying feathers,
Lightning flashes from his eyes and after the harvest he rests,
But he has on his last flight left a special task to do,"

"Thunderbird searches all the prairies and fields,
Searching for the largest pumpkin of perfect orange,
Searches in the tall waving grasses with his keen eyes,
Searches under the trees with lightning light,
He finds the world's biggest pumpkin each year,
He takes the pumpkin in his talons to the Great Spirit."

Great Spirit sees Thunderbird coming and breathes frost upon the morning,
He knows now to wake Winter from her sleep far in the North,
And he gives the spirit of the pumpkin the power of visions in thanks,
Thunderbird rolls the Great Pumpkin upon the ground,
It is the last thunder of Summer you are hearing,
There Great Pumpkin awaits a worthy person in some lonely pumpkin patch,
Waiting to gift the people with winter visions."

"One year he gave them to a little white boy selling blankets,
For Great Pumpkin liked his toy piano songs,
Now all white men know of Great Pumpkin yet few believe,
Thinking Autumn thunder is nothing but the wind,
They do not know the value of visions in the coming Winter,
Angry at the snow spirits who help the rabbits and squirrels and bears to rest,
Because they do not believe Great Pumpkin exists,
They go blind if the sun meets the snow."

The fellow became silent then,
I heard a great rumbling off in the distance,
It shook the briars and the brambles,
The thistle seed rattled loose all around,
Milkweed pods burst open and cotton-filled the chilly air,
Flocks of Canada geese flew up and started racing South,
The blackbirds swarmed up and circled the pumpkin patch,
Flakes of snow sputtered down and whirled about,
I knew the Great Pumpkin had found a patch.

I thought to myself of taking up trading blankets and playing piano.


By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 10/06/2005

Wednesday, February 15, 2017

Rattlebones Review...

Post by AquarianM on Sep 28, 2005 at 12:47pm

Rattlebones Review...

Amber Moon perched on the hilltop,
Down at the end of Red Eye road,
Walk the chill spines rattling all along,
A marching band of bone flutes whistling an ancient song,
Jolly Jones and Roger too in rotted tatters they stroll,
Risen for one night - All Hallows Eve.

The band has singing notes from cutlasses,
Swishing in bare knuckled hands,
A drumming upon stretched skins,
Stolen from the Witches' lair,
They dance and they rattle their symphony,
Beyond any mortal care.

Symbols bang upon reality that bends,
Following the black flag down,
Unearthly lights in ghost town windows,
Bats shriek high over skeleton heads,
To meet the bride of Dracula 'pon the peak of Dead Man's Knoll,
Furious sticks of wormwood beat like heads the drums do roll.

Eerie honks and whistles blare,
Calling spirits of the night,
A sight few mortals shall see yet live to speak by day,
The coven is cackling harshly high upon straw brooms,
Black clouds swirling fast over every star,
The rats and worms dance quickly into the medicine jar.

Howl now - howl me buckos the ship that sank,
She's rotting upon the bottom rocks,
This stony shore we tonight must walk,
The seas are tossed and lightness black,
The waves cadence to our soulless song,
Raise what hackles you might have left -

We'll play it all night long!


By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 09/28/2005

Tuesday, February 14, 2017

Gossamer Soul...

Post by AquarianM on Sep 28, 2005 at 11:52am

Gossamer Soul...

If there is a font of kindness you have drawn it's draught surely,
In the well of imagination you have bathed by Moonlight,
Dancing upon clouds you rain smiles upon the Earth,
Even filled with tears to bursting you are a light among shadows,
Knowing that to be human is to feel pain you still exude joy,
Worry not that your empathy is leaden. (It isn't so.)

If you impart laughlight into darkness then you have sung your brightest song.

Whirl upon your pedestal amidst the soulflowers,
Itself merely the earthen hill where the sunrise is your backlight,
Innocent wisdom becomes you,
As we are all graced to know your name,
When you light upon your castle's ramparts,
Rainbow wings folded shut and having done what you must...

Be filled with knowing that this is enough.


By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 09/28/2005

Author's Comments:
For Spinny.

Monday, February 13, 2017

Last Gas...

Post by AquarianM on Sep 22, 2005 at 9:52am

Last Gas...

"And they said her name was Rita..."

She came ripping up the gulf like a bad Godzilla swarm,
Mother Nature's take on B-flick horror,
Headed straight for the refineries like a tight-wound white steamroller,
Storm surges higher than twenty feet.

Those silvery Moonlight beaches of Galveston I remember will never be the same.

The pundits were screaming five bucks plus and lines at the pumps,
The stocks were at the bottom and digging for China,
Guess they had a bamboo handle on the shovel,
And all the heat in the Gulf these days must go somewhere.

Straight for the source of the tailpipe emissions.

Houston to the station - mayday, mayday, mayday,
We're on an evacuation route doing ninety North and dodging busses,
Not sure how long the cell phone will hold out,
Give our regards to Moscow and tell 'em we're sorry but runnin'.

Texas may be big but it's about to be flat.

The white clouds are swirling and underneath it's black as night,
Another three million gallons a day capacity under Mother Nature's heel and squished,
The Earth herself is nuking the source of the sickness better than Commies on steroids,
She's not whispering at all anymore folks - close the moon roofs on your SUV's.

How many more oil company CEO's you wanna elect now?

Guess we here in the North are going to be doing tent cities and soup line set up,
The refugees are on the roll again poor souls - their erstwhile hosts are joining the caravan,
So now the shoe is on both feet tight and hurting bad to blistering,
And half of us plus the computer glitch didn't want to buy the pair.

Shoulda listened to those environmental folks 'cause today is the Last Gas.


By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 09/22/2005
*Author's note: I wish I didn't feel compelled to write this. I wish we collectively had been doing our homework over the past twenty years. Still, I feel it needs to be said and I am done holding back any longer. It is time to speak out in earnest. There are those of you who may disagree with what I am saying. The root of it is this: Casual treatment of our nation's energy technologies and a failure to restrain capitalism from going too far into a land without true ethics is laying waste to our world. Do you really want to witness the entire Earth becoming a wasteland?*

Sunday, February 12, 2017

As The Ages Speak...

Post by AquarianM on Sep 25, 2005 at 9:12pm

As The Ages Speak...

I was staring a 19th century Navaho poet in the words this afternoon,
Then surfing Neruda's private seas en ingles y espanol,
Hearing the call to love the Earth with the bonds of stewardship,
A duty simply laid upon man and forgotten in conveniently complex fashion,
The albatross of sanity was flying jigs as I looked beneath a carpet of customs.

Legends and Genesis from three continents cry as the butterflies pass by,
Multicolored threads woven through a fabric of life once lush and rich,
Lunatic shears born in five fingered hands sever such yarn as they may find,
Convinced of dominion yet holding no understanding of the shape of that mountain,
Blindly following the blind searching for a candle already laid at their feet out of sight.

No host need come down nor Almighty lift a finger,
Walking the highway to Hell is all down hill from here,
Girded by entrenched walls of silence and fear,
We were given a job and our fears have hands in the small of our backs,

As we lie down and the clocks tick by a Revelation nears our door and it is Us,
Stagnated in the walls of tradition and habit and who do you know deals,
Speaking of ideals in nonchalant splendor and failing to live His word or our own,
What we speak and live is what defines us and our fate.

The time of Tribulations is rooted in a simple failure of vision, social compact, and too-glued traditions -
All God has to do is sit back and watch; all we have to do is Steward the Earth and each other,
As the ages speak of Tribulations come and gone only now we can do it bigger and bolder,
Such is the nature of duopoly consisting of duty and free will.


By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 09/25/2005

Author's Comments:
I saw a poem written by a poet I admire and respect the other day, suggesting we were entering the Revelationist time of Tribulations described in the Bible. Perhaps she is right - but if she is it is only because of our own collective insanities. That doesn't mean God doesn't exist - it just means I believe we've been screwing up badly enough on our own that we'll easily be able to fulfil prophesy if we so choose without Him doing anything.

Saturday, February 11, 2017

Of Whispers And Secrets...

Post by AquarianM on Sep 17, 2005 at 12:23am

Of Whispers And Secrets...

In the calm place that should be my mind the words are winding up to pitch,
I lay on the cotton thick and darling - unprepared to sort wheat from which,
Internal ear muffs and denial like ambrosia for the blind,
I see too much and hear too much and live in interesting times.

The muse comes and lays down tracks like a rock star in high fidelity.

There is no ignoring the pace of the race that no one seems to be winning,
Insipid whispers howling and faces all around scowling,
Tied up like rats in the maze when we only need to let the words go soft,
Find the strength it takes to abandon fears of weakness and bear the character of kindness.

It's written in ancient books and modern songs what salve to the wounds we must find.

The answer my friend is blowing in the winds of change and potential is charging,
Spiritually the way to love can not be forced or coerced or feared into being,
Only one path leads to salvation founded in mortal coil or spirit,
As He said love thy neigbor as thyself - stop treating yourself so badly.

Love is a slow and undefined path where fear is a greased toboggan run to doom.

When you open your eyes and ears fully what voice are you choosing to hear,
Faith or fear and love or lies - in this space there are no shades of grey,
There are two kinds of angels and I prefer those that fly rather than crawl,
The ones who simply state and never whisper.

Honestly - Love needs no secrets.


By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 09/17/2005

Friday, February 10, 2017

Milkweed Magic...

Milkweed Magic...

Soft silk bursting to float on chill Fall air,
Milkweed pods like cotton puffs release their aviators,
When the winds kick up and a hawk circles amid swirling white motes,
The sun breaks through the grey cloud fluff and mist,
A single beam onto the amber and straw prairie below,
Lancing through the center of a flotilla of Canada geese,
Lazing down a little Midwestern river,
Their follow-on mallard groupies quack and dive,
The world is slow and at peace.

Coffee mug in one hand and slow cigar in the other,
I smoke signal the sky along the walking path,
Watching toast-gold thistle crowns swaying in the breeze,
Ruling over rustling gentle bleached yellow grasses,
Yellow tiny butterflies flutter around the occasional regal monarch,
Tiny denizens daring the silvery spin of spiders' web,
Giant oak and walnut trees tower over the maple,
Red or yellow or orange or rust with sugar maples for company,
The thickets and the canopy full of bird chatter,
Flocking blackbird pit stop full of brown sparrow gossip,
The robins too good and cheery to participate,
My steps are slow and soaring easy over the path.

Feeling connected to the Earth I walk this path of peace.


By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 10/13/2005

Thursday, February 09, 2017

Benny The Bug's Fall Diner...

Benny The Bug's Fall Diner...

Step it slow and cautious down my block kid,
You never know who'll punch yer lunch ticket,
Better fly high right on by,
It's a hungry day and I've got a thousand babies to feed,
I've climbed the ladder and I'm all set,
It's the Halloween hustle if you come too close,
I've got a sticky spell better than most,
A cold and calculated contract to fulfill,
I'm a bug-eyed bandit out for a thrill,
I'll sit at a witch's door full of poison brew,
Bite a black cat or a Druid what's more or even you,
Come see the pretty silvery shadows that shine,
I'm Benny the Bug and your carcass is all mine!


By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 10/14/2005

Wednesday, February 08, 2017

Mister Scott's Final Miracle...

Post by AquarianM on Oct 15, 2005 at 1:18am

Mister Scott's Final Miracle...

He's going back up,
High up into the black silent void,
Where the stars never blink in myriad colors,
Riding a quaint old rocket's roaring flame,
No impulse nor warp nor ion drive,
Although he'd "miracled" them all at some place or time,
Now his ashes will orbit the Earth as is only fitting,
A little something he engineered while still alive,
The inspiration of thousands of engineers,
Aye Cap'n and a star to steer a teary eye,
They twinkle and sparkle don't ye know,
Mister Scott's final miracle utterly fitting and right,
God bless you James Doohan as you ride the endless ebony night,
For this time, you've gone where every man has had to go before.


By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 10/15/2005

Author's Comments:
James Doohan's ashes will ride a rocket into space on December 6th, 2005, to orbit the Earth until atmospheric friction causes them to spiral in and burn up. His vaporized remains will eventually become utterly a part of all the Earth thanks to mortality, the one ship he couldn't fix. He inspired so many young people to go into engineering he was awarded an honorary engineering degree. He sails the night with the hearts and hopes of many millions, exploring the final frontier even in spirit.


Tuesday, February 07, 2017

Dance Of The Prairie Winds...

Post by AquarianM on Oct 16, 2005 at 9:25pm

Dance Of The Prairie Winds...

Even as the Milkweed faeries dance down the breeze in whistling sunlight,
The Thistle sisters sway their crowns like a trance waiting to happen,
A seed falls here or gets stuck on pant leg there,
A little brash maybe but no secrets to hide,
Dressed in Prairie gold they play with Zephyr princes,
Baiting foxes, stags, even wolves for a ride,
Far past their honey bee pink blush and no longer green with envy,
Fall is their amber season of reward and delight,
Even in Winter's frigid arms they show but little restraint,
They will lonely-peek over pure white blankets,
Always ready for their turn at the ball,
Pretty as gilded lilies in a simpler fashion,
Queens of the prairie waving and fluttering,
They'll always gift you a back -home feeling if you look long and slow,
Sort of child sisters of Mesmer.


By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 10/16/2005

Monday, February 06, 2017

Le Aqua Na Sand Castles...

Post by AquarianM on Jul 25, 2005 at 2:39pm

Le Aqua Na Sand Castles...

Dreams -

Sunlight and flowing gold -

Childhood cameos built on sand -

Golden ripples on lake water -

Hours building sand castles, a green leaf flag perched atop -

Parent and child on forever's shore -

When the green trees rustle,
When the black water ripples,
When the sunlight dapples gentle waves -

The clock will stop -

I will remember childhood dreams.


By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 07/25/2005

Sunday, February 05, 2017

Blessed Rain...

Post by AquarianM on Jul 27, 2005 at 4:40pm

Blessed Rain...

The tawny edges of death color the drought,
The worst in a hundred years they say,
Trees of Fall in mid-July .

The endless heat drains you like a carotid cut.

In the struggle of bucket brigades and hoses,
The falling pond where moss sweeps clear the water,
Even the mud is gone yellow and cracked.

The grey skies have come and gone simply spitting upon us.

The tease of dry dark clouds eats at the spirit,
Not a mosquito whines at an ear - not even one,
The herons stare starkly at receding ripples of brackish muck.

The scientists can battle with politicians until the cows come home.

I just thank God that today came the blessed rain.


By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 07/26/2005

Saturday, February 04, 2017

Bathed In Light...

Post by AquarianM on Jul 29, 2005 at 11:36pm

Bathed In Light...

A soft glow flooding to brilliance,
A small blue world hanging in blackness,
Dashed with shades of soft cloud and brown,
From every corner of everywhere comes the light.

It's only source can not be found in a small yellow star,
Nor in some electric fixture or campfire flames,
Not in the harsh glare of chemical explosions,
Nor candles in windows gleaming.

It comes from everywhere and every direction,
To save us all it's name we are given,
Earth is saved through a universal gift,
Whose simple name adorns existence.

We can truly see only by lovelight.


By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 07/30/2005

Friday, February 03, 2017


Post by AquarianM on Jul 27, 2005 at 4:37pm


Bejeweled spectacle of grand festival,
Ball gowns floating on airs,
Silver and gold and respectable black classic,
A tea garden atop the marble mountain.

Lies and facade and chicanery.

Aspire and desire all you wish,
Leach the life from the ground of everywhere,
Everything so that everyone has nothing,
Follow the long and winding road to glory.

Who will see you in all your opulence?

A flowing gown and womb full of life,
A quiet garden of green where hummingbirds flock and young lovers lie,
Places where neighbors know your name and share a table,
The glow of a world about to bloom.

There is a path and there are bombed-out roads.

A newborn's mother cradling in arm at the seaside,
Whales spouting and dolphins jumping at the sunset,
A small farm with fifty crops and fertile Earth,
Frogs croaking on four legs and bird flocks of millions.

Who will see you in all your opulence?


By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 07/27/2005

Thursday, February 02, 2017

The Masterpiece...

Post by AquarianM on Aug 2, 2005 at 12:09am

The Masterpiece...

That's what I want to find,
That poem that just makes everyone stop in their tracks,
The one that when you read it you fall between the pages and live in it,
Swimming the words like a fish,
Breathing it in like it was part of you,
The one that makes everyone I love or ever will a little bit immortal,
And that would be this whole wide world I live in,
The times that I know like the back of my hand,
I know them like water down the bathtub drain,
I swim in that every night with the candles on,
I look up and see the stars in their orbits and I know they're mine right now,
Which doesn't make the twinkles any less yours,
My notebook is a magnifying glass Sherlock,
And it's searching for everything I know,
This universe my soul is wading in,
It could just be my masterpiece,
Just one more page and I might find it.


By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 08/02/2005

Wednesday, February 01, 2017

Candles For Casey...

Post by AquarianM on Aug 25, 2005 at 10:02am

Candles For Casey...

Shining in the dark night's silence, soft and warm yellow glow,
As gentle as a mother's heart.

Speaking what words cannot.

Visibly asking for love and peace to prevail.

Let the mothers stop their tears from salting the oceans.

There is a book that speaks of love and where it leads.

Reason enough to light a candle every night and fill the darkness of grief.

Fill it with the light of love and hope.


By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 08/23/2005

Author's Comments:

Put a candle in your window tonight?