Wrapped 2023 Quotes

Black Widow by Stewart Stafford She blinds me with her caress. Hand upon my chest, Venom kisses like snake bites ecstatic and unbecoming night. She drags me to her tomb, graveyard of many a groom, Lovers wrapped in silken lace, In webs of death, find their place. Creeping dawn on morn, Frostbitten and reborn, Clinging on so tight, Her kiss, the shroud of night. © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.

Fastest Storm by Stewart Stafford The fastest storm fell over us, A rapid drop down a lift shaft, The moon's spotlight blocked, Wrapped tight in venomousness. And under a wicked hand fallen, The venal and honourable in flux, A pantheon of money and might, Gloved hand night clawed larceny. The storm passed, fading into folklore, Only by swift valour blocking knavery, Clouds parted, cataracts cleared eyes, A renaissance spark became an inferno. © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.

Under The Octagon by Stewart Stafford Under the octagon of glass and steel, A careworn man sits at his desk and sighs, He longs to leave this place of chilly lies, And find a hidden treasure that is real. He knows a code that he can’t reveal, A sepulchre where the Holy Grail lies, He found it with his providence eyes, A numinous and haunting view that heals. He takes a penknife from his drawer and peels, His finger till he sees a key inside, He wraps his wound and leaves without a guide, He runs towards the garden, full of zeal. He finds the rhododendrons and the birch, He digs beneath the wisteria with care, Cracks open the tomb, and discovers there, A golden bird sitting upon its perch. "Back! Thou tomb-raiding thief." It squawks, its voice so stern, "Cleanse thyself, endeavour to learn. Do not touch the Grail without belief!" Caving in, he seals the grave, The aureate avian conveys his thanks, The plumage rejoining arcane ranks, The man seeks out a confessor's nave. © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved

Beholden by Stewart Stafford All luminous things harbour flaws, If you permit the mask of judgement, To drag your eyes down to see them, Missing Chimera joys of the voyeur. Flirting looks at the sun are all we have, Save for the shadowy beard of clouds, Sunspots dappling the magisterial orb, Freckles of the wrapping skin merging. Smudged handwriting overlooked, Granting character to spidered scrawl, Blind alleys serve as crooked prizes, A third eye, newborn-viewing the self. © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.