Moon Hawk

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	7/8/2000 4:13:26 AM 7/19/2020 5:30:09 AM	2388

Moon Hawk

I just spent two days in free fall hurtling in a tin can through the night,
I've soaked up all the multicolored rays of tiny pinpoint lights,
And here I am staring through a port hole at the Silvered Moon.
It's looking quite like it has eaten half the sky to a merry tune.

So huge in my eyes, soon to be where my future lies.

The forces of landing pin me in my seat,
But the force of leaving the Earth my home can't be beat.
A new life dawning above the last of the clouds,
So far above, there will never be crowds.

Disembarking like a fluttering feather, a lightness I treasure.

I haul my bags here that weight just thirteen pounds,
Back where I came from they would have been grounds,
For a strained spine in time, an 80 pound roll.
Now I weigh in at forty one, but I used to do a 250 pound stroll.

I feel like I could throw a house over my shoulder and laugh!

Here is what I came for, under a crystal dome.
A new night but day sky I came here to roam.
Olympic player to match Icarus' rise,
Surveying my course, a sparkle in my eyes.

I strap on my wings, laughing in the sunlight.

Brightly colored sails of cloth extend my arms,
And in the lightness of gravity I expose my charms,
I shall soar away, just like a bird,
And win on race day, ahead by a third.

I came to the Moon to win!

I step to the edge, and in a graceful stroke of brilliantly colored nylon,
I leave the ground behind under my own power with ease.
I could be a super hero, a dash of derring do,
But I love flying, it's really quite true.

I finally know the grace of the Hawk.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/08/2000

Author's Comments

When I was a teenager I read about sport flying on the Moon. A fantasy that has remained with me through many years. With Musculature developed on Earth and one sixth the weight, You could literally fly with the right equipment in the light gravity.
If you were under a huge clear dome, you could learn what the birds know. Three dimensional freedom.

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	7/8/2000 4:13:26 AM 7/19/2020 5:30:09 AM	2388

Author	Email	Web
Daniel A. Stafford	aqmstaffo@mailbag.com	www.mailbag.com/users/aqmstaffo/index.html

 

Poets' Ache Review

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	7/7/2000 1:23:06 AM 9/17/2020 11:49:10 PM	757

Poets' Ache Review

I often wonder where this deep melancholy or strenuous joy I feel resides.
Where does this come from, this deep sense of soaking up the moment
Before it's gone away, once again too soon? To see romance in the
Light of the moon, or beauty stark and crystal clear in a fleeting moment
I can never truly share the experience of nor capture as well as I might wish?
No matter how I strive to capture this jewel of pure feeling that sweeps over me
With the power of an ocean tide.

I see magic moments at every turn, longing to run them through over and over
To wring from them every sense of perception they might yield and then
Take the world by the lapels with words and stare into their eyes asking,
"Did you see how grand and glorious that was?"

In the deep times of the night, I settle for the precious few moments
I can enliven for our tomorrows and glance up at the moon and stars in
Wide-eyed wonder at their incredible glowing show. And wonder,
"Why am I allowed to see the glory if I cannot pass every drop on?"

I shall be forced to content myself with sending forward the brief glimpses
I am allowed to salvage in these meager few words.

And so I choose the grandest I can find and hope it is enough.

Because I miss you so much.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/07/2000

Author's Comments

Just something I think is present in most any poet. I can only describe it like this, but I think most of us see an inner beauty in moments in life, snapshots in time, if you will. And try very hard to convey that forward to enrich the emotional content of the lives around us and after us. To leave a little peek of something grander behind.

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	7/7/2000 1:23:06 AM 9/17/2020 11:49:10 PM	757

Author	Email	Web
Daniel A. Stafford	aqmstaffo@mailbag.com	www.mailbag.com/users/aqmstaffo/index.html

Total Comments: 2

Comments
Janine Daniel	spinnys@hotmail.com	www.spinnys.com	7/7/2000 4:16:55 PM
I know exactly what you mean. I see something that I think is absolutely amazing and want to talk about it with everyone so they can share my experience. If no-one was with me I try and show them with my words. It's like when I draw a picture too. What I'm doing then is telling a story with my picture instead of the other way around. Sometimes I get so carried away with telling the story that I make people's head's spin! That's why I got called Spinny...:o)
Daniel A. Stafford	aqmstaffo@mailbag.com	www.whizzyrds.com	11/19/2012 10:13:40 PM
Janine, I'm looking at your comment 13 years later, wondering if you'll ever read this reply, and thinking two things: 1. I love the story of how you got your lovely nickname "Spinny." 2. I had already known you for four years when I wrote this, and now it's 12 years later, and OMG, that's like, FOREVER in internet time. It just goes to show what a wonderful and lovely friend you are. To this day, I miss your poetic voice, and if you ever take a break from singing, please, please, please write some poetry again my dear friend.

 

Deuce of Hearts

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	7/6/2000 11:08:17 PM 10/26/2020 10:25:48 PM	721

Deuce of Hearts

A wild card, a wild ride, a better way, a loving side.
Starting out new, shiny and pretty, easy to slide,
Ending up well worn, tattered, and sticking together,
But it's the two that time will treasure.

Two hearts on a single page.

They start out burning in the sunrise sun,
Hot wild passion and magic and fun,
And through it all they see lots of play,
Though in the end the warmth of sunset will stay.

Best card in the deck.

In any hand, united they stand,
And helping to win is really quite grand,
Though thought of as low, they continually go,
Hand in hand.

It's always seemed such a warm card to me.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/06/2000

Author's Comments

I once, long ago, evaluated the way a failed relationship went. It seemed to me that the other person involved wanted to just have physical intimacy and sometimes a bit of companionship, but when there was any hint of permanence or responsibility for how you treated the other in the picture, she balked. And so my mind pictured an ace of hearts, frozen in an ice cube, and a two of hearts, laying in the warmth of the sunrise. This represents to me a difference in approach to love and relationships. A choice, if you will, between a coldness and hardening of the heart in an attempt to guard against pain from one who has chosen not to risk, and a desire for warmth, closeness and unity from one who has decided that they cannot remain frozen. The adage "love like you have never been hurt" comes to mind. Hence two of my recent poems. What choices are you making?

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	7/6/2000 11:08:17 PM 10/26/2020 10:25:48 PM	721

Author	Email	Web
Daniel A. Stafford	aqmstaffo@mailbag.com	www.mailbag.com/users/aqmstaffo/index.html

Total Comments: 1

Comments
			4/25/2001 5:06:28 PM
daniel, i like the inner meaning in this poem...i wanted to tell you that i think it's really neat how you've been commenting on everyone's poems...everyone loves to hear it, including me!! :)

 

Faerie City Lights

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	7/6/2000 8:07:20 PM 8/14/2020 1:19:11 AM	805

Faerie City Lights

Walk in the doors there along the way,
Oh, maybe about sunset today,
Between the giant brass lions,
and get somehow past gates of iron.

Shhhhh! Quietly peek.

Step quietly in the dark lest they hear,
and as the bottom of the marble stairs appear,
You will hear tiny tinkling laughing voices,
And be certain to contain any noises.

If you listen closely to hear them speak.

See a light peek through a crack in the wall,
A tile pops out and open without a fall,
And a tiny faerie princess three inches small,
Spreads her wings and flies up over it all.

Trailing glowing motes of faerie dust in her wake.

A gilt silver and golden silk gown,
Tiny Prince and Princess a night on the town.
And the spectacle would make the museum keeper frown,
But the little folk will make the merry go 'round.

Wee little instruments that tiny hands play.

You can hear the music in the tiny town,
Victorian houses full of laughter and joy,
And parties galore in the hall all around,
Glass faced victorian rooms in perfect miniature.

Magic spells craft visual delights.

Tiny rainbows dance over miniature marble floors,
And crystal horses sparkle in perfect parade,
Stars twinkle in circles around every head and more,
And tiny musicians play sweet serenades.

Lilliput dances 'til dawn.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/06/2000

Author's Comments

I just spent two hours at the Chicago Art Museum today with my son. The first thing we saw? There is an exhibit there, done by a woman who's name I cannot remember, but who's work I shall never forget. Perfect little portions of Victorian houses and renaissance castles, living rooms, bedrooms, a marble bath, grand stairwells, tiny gardens, Chinese and Japanese homes, and a
grand cathedral in a size such that a foot in real life is an inch in this incredibly beautiful miniature city, a mixture of London, Paris, Amsterdam, Beijing, Tokyo, Venice, Chicago, and Rome. A miniature world set in the 16th through 19th centuries. It is something you must see to believe. I couldn't help but picture the wee folk filling it with dance and song and romance in the secret hours... And so I conjure a party just for my friend Spinny.

	Library Home
Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	7/6/2000 8:07:20 PM 8/14/2020 1:19:11 AM	805

Author	Email	Web
Daniel A. Stafford	aqmstaffo@mailbag.com	www.mailbag.com/users/aqmstaffo/index.html

Total Comments: 2

Comments
Daniel A. Stafford	aqmstaffo@mailbag.com	http://www.artic.edu/aic/books/subminiature.html	7/6/2000 8:56:55 PM
Those interested can find the Thorne Collection of Miniature Rooms at the web address shown as my homepage on this note: http://www.artic.edu/aic/books/subminiature.html
Janine Daniel	spinnys@hotmail.com	www.spinnys.com	7/7/2000 4:28:45 PM
Thank you Dan for creating such a pretty party for me. I've got a smile on my face and feel like I was the "Belle of the Ball". I snuck out of my hiding place and sat in the middle of that  floor and watched as the fairies danced and flew all around me. My laughter joined their tiny tinkles and their magic spun songs around my heart. I'm still breathing fast.....be still my beating heart!

 

Independence & Remembrance

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	7/6/2000 4:04:17 AM 10/2/2020 8:46:13 AM	726

Independence & Remembrance

It's just a little boy's memory of one of those things summer is,
A night in July when customs and thoughts and memories are his.
One of those special things that made my grandfather unique,
So on that note I'll give you a peek,

I used to play at his feet and soak up the affection.

Fireflies dancing in the air, fireworks glow and bang over there,
Warm breezes and a radio in the garage, mosquitoes you have to dodge,
Big door open and an evening's delight, King Edward cigars he'd always light.

The scent of cigar smoke on the wind.

A kind ghost from my past, one of those great things that just can't last,
Him and my grandma lived the American Dream.
Came over in the twenties on boats at sea, from Italia and Sicily.
She could out cook a kitchen angel, even the old Italians will tell.

Lawn chair out just past the door, sitting there with a glowing cigar.

I could swear he was sitting there with me,
And I could remember everything quite clearly.
He passed while I was away, boot camp at seventeen,
And he was something I'm glad to have seen.

A hard working Italian gentleman.

As I recreate a scene from my youth,
Sitting there smoking by the garage in truth,
I could swear he was there sitting with me,
Together in heart we'll always be.

And she says now I'm smoking those darn things, too.

Just a bit of smoke in my eye, that's why.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/06/2000

Author's Comments

My Mom was adopted by an Italian couple. When we were tiny kids we started calling them Noni & Nono. Now they hold those sacred titles forever. Gino and Sadie's legacy. I remember running down in front of the factory where my grandfather spent 44 years of his life and greeting him with my grandmother.....the tall iron fence and the smiles.

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	7/6/2000 4:04:17 AM 10/2/2020 8:46:13 AM	726

Author	Email	Web
Daniel A. Stafford	aqmstaffo@mailbag.com	www.mailbag.com/users/aqmstaffo/index.html

 

Fireworks & Dreams

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	7/4/2000 4:44:13 PM 10/4/2020 4:29:33 PM	811

Fireworks & Dreams

Do you know what those loud bangs are you hear every Fourth of July?
Echoes. You bet, just echoes. Recreations from when dreams were let fly.

Sparklers dancing in the hot summer sun, little eyes gleaming in light of fun.
Echoes of old fires and forgotten drums, reprise of burnings done.

We survived and thrived because the sounds that created those echoes were.

Cannonade, fire of jade, showers of golden and green sparks in the sky,
Red, white, blue, mortars reflecting colors to you, and do you know why?

In celebration, of great, grand dreams, little ones.
Fireworks bang and great white flashes, in memoriam of lost loved sons.

Our forefathers gave us an incredible gift. Don't let it drift, away.

Heat. Crowds. Cotton candy, and lights in the sky for moments brief,
Glowing in stark relief, all hail our ancient chiefs, and celebrate culmination of belief.
Babies that cry and eyes looking high, spirits of joy in another season,

I tell you though, their sacrifices and genius the reason.

Fireworks. Just a distant echo of their memory.

Their great work lives on.

Light up the Sky!

AquarianM

By Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/04/2000

Author's Comments

We should never forget how hard it was for our nation to live, or for our ancestry to create such a tradition for us.

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	7/4/2000 4:44:13 PM 10/4/2020 4:29:33 PM	811

Author	Email	Web
Daniel A. Stafford	aqmstaffo@mailbag.com	www.mailbag.com/users/aqmstaffo/index.html

Total Comments: 1

Comments
Kat	KatzMeowSS@netscape.net		8/7/2000 5:00:59 PM
Wonderful remembrance of why the Fourth of July is so Important to all of us. Great description!!

 

Ace of Hearts

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	7/4/2000 3:30:20 AM 9/23/2020 11:36:28 PM	770

Ace of Hearts

Young, too young, to really understand....still the Ace of Hearts admired.
Teen aged lust rages in veins still flush and opened, softness desired.
Hands longing to gently touch, but none there to feel their reward.
Squeezing the last drops out of fantasy, the Ace of Hearts.

Apprentice to the Sorcerers' College.

Lovingly on fire, burned at the stake, learning of pain to partake.
Ice-blue eyes that know just how to burn your heart with a fake,
Love declarations withering on the vine, there still is a long time,
Before the Ace of Hearts shall be freed of the price of rhyme.

Learning of lonliness spells in time to myriad rock tunes.

Betrayed, remembering a heartache so deep you long to be the Ace of Hearts.
Defying fate's call to make warmth a part of life, blacking out new starts.
Watching your heart beating out it's last warmth in the palm of an unloving lying hand,
Player of games that slept at your side, with a truth no blouse nor magic sweater could stand.

Sometimes your heart lies to you. It knows no better.

Tears grown into an ice-strewn river, nineteen years no armor,
Shall guard you into forever, from the pains of amour,
But the card in the frozen blue ice cube, the crystal ball of pain,
It's the Ace of Hearts that is locked in the frozen painful rain.

A moment in time trapped, heart strapped away.

Emotions drowned so deep, no longer able to weep.
Ace of Hearts, you have now become, but the price is to steep.
Do you ever thaw, ever see the sun again?
Ace of Hearts, forever in mourning?

Don't wear black in the ice cube too long,
That crystal ball of pain glorified in song,
Is no way to live a lifetime,
Cold well past your prime.

Have your dreams died away?

Ace of Hearts, you think you know all the rules.
But in reality, it's the rules for fools.
Learn love. Hard, cold, soft, warm, blinding.
But at least it's a wealth of feeling.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/04/2000

Author's Comments

Early lessons, early sorrows, old memories. I have since forgiven. But I do remember. I doubt I could possibly forget.

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	7/4/2000 3:30:20 AM 9/23/2020 11:36:28 PM	770

Author	Email	Web
Daniel A. Stafford	aqmstaffo@mailbag.com	www.mailbag.com/users/aqmstaffo/index.html

 

The Golden Heart Spell

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	6/30/2000 7:01:24 AM 10/14/2020 12:45:38 AM	852

The Golden Heart Spell

Shhhhhhh.........

Let me whisper a secret quietly in your ear,
A potent love spell, it's power crystal clear.
Hold in your hands a talisman, to remind you of your love.
Clear your mind and be at peace, like a snow white dove.

Close your eyes and breathe in a loving breath.

Picture in the eye of your mind, your two cupped hands.
Palms upward, fingers relaxed, no outward demands.
Feel a warmth begin to grow upon your palms.
Pull the universe's energy in without any qualms.

Feel the flow of love enter you from everywhere.

Between your mental palms, picture if you will, young dove,
A glowing rose coloured heart, made of the flowing energy of love.
Add the love within your heart, a glowing orange red swirl,
And the devotion that you feel, purest pink and pearl.

Gild the mental heart in decorative golden bands.

Fill the heart with energy till near to bursting it is.
Temper it with all your love, all that your soul gives.
Feel the beating pulse of your emotions,
Feeding the growing heart aflame with the kindest devotions.

Watch wings of pure white light sprout from either side.

See the heart take graceful flight, full of your loving thoughts,
Grown from the chakra in your chest, full of love's sweet draughts,
Gliding now oh gracefully, the heart of love shall fly to the one that you
love best,
And softly melt right in, to your distant lover's chest.

See it meld with the beating heart of your far away love.

This is the gift from me to you, crafted by the Midnight Mage,
The one with a heart that does feel love's bated breath.
May your star crossed lover, love you beyond the end of time,
And may all your sweetest dreams come true in rhyme.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 06/30/2000

Author's Comments

A mental devotion I give to my love in meditation. It helps me hold my love for her clear and true in my mind and heart. I think she feels it come through sometimes.

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	6/30/2000 7:01:24 AM 10/14/2020 12:45:38 AM	852

Author	Email	Web
Daniel A. Stafford	aqmstaffo@mailbag.com

Total Comments: 3

Comments
Janine Daniel	spinnys@hotmail.com	www.spinnys.com	7/6/2000 11:57:22 AM
I know I've said it before but....what a beautiful poem. I got shivers reading this one. You are amazing!
Claud	klugecc@jps.net		7/19/2000 10:28:37 PM
Hi It occurred to me that as poets we tend to be somewhat self-centered at times and thereby miss a lot of good things that others have to offer. I, therefore, have undertaken to read and comment on all the poems posted on the 50 most viewed and 50 most recent categories. I can find some good in the poorest of poetry and something to criticize in the best of poetry. The project may take some time but the fact that you are reading this should indicate that I've read this piece and enjoyed, at least, some if not all of what you ‘ve written. I'll leave the judging to the experts. It.s enough for me to know the you cared enough to share your work with us all. I would also encourage you all to share your thoughts with me and all the others that have contributed to this website. Just remember: A SONG IS NOT A SONG ‘TIL YOU SING IT A BELL IS NOT A BELL ‘TIL YOU RING IT LOVE IS NOT PUT IN YOUR HEART TO STAY LOVE IS NOT LOVE ‘TIL YOU GIVE IT AWAY Claud
Nik	angelofmine_69@hotmail.com		9/1/2001 12:23:13 AM
A wonderful poem that touched the depths of my heart...a beautiful reflection on love's magic.

 

Release of Heart Chains

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	6/29/2000 5:44:23 AM 9/30/2020 9:55:26 AM	809

Release of Heart Chains

There was a time, not so very long ago,
When I was walking through a dark and closing door.
I had wrapped chains of iron around my heart,
Thinking never again I would start,

To live a life of love.

Battered, nearly broken, loser in love's gentle fight,
Heart held together just barely in the frozen night.
Loss and heartache followed at every turn,
Barely keeping a dry eye due to harsh lessons learned.

To lose someone is akin to a close to you death.

I took one last look behind me through the door,
And there was a light illuminating my heart on the floor.
A kind gentle Sorceress come to cast a sweet spell,
You caught the key Just as I tossed it behind.

Love is a gift, a promise you must be allowed to keep.

I took my time learning that you were the one,
I wasn't quite sure I belonged in the sun.
You convinced me my love to come out of the rain,
And your sweet truth eased away old pain.

I started to believe there might be life in hope.

The gift that you given me, promises I'll be here for you to keep,
Are the reasons my soul no longer feels a need to weep.
I have not a reason any longer to hide,
And this all because you are now at my side.

I love you. I trust you. I hadn't thought I could.

You gifted me with the lost key to my heart,
And you opened the chains before they could rust shut.
Without you, the chains on my heart would not have seen release.
You've given me life and love and fun.

Thanks to you, I smile like the Sun.

The chains are broken away forever.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 06/29/2000

Author's Comments

My sweet Saren, and her kindest gift to me. An honest love.

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	6/29/2000 5:44:23 AM 9/30/2020 9:55:26 AM	809

Author	Email	Web
Daniel A. Stafford	aqmstaffo@mailbag.com	www.mailbag.com/users/aqmstaffo/index.html

 

Foundations' Shadows

 

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	6/29/2000 2:57:49 AM 9/18/2020 2:26:42 PM	1020

Foundations' Shadows

Stumble across an unexpected clue,
Just by chance do you explore,
and next you find yourself,
Immersed in days before.

They are the cause of me.

Ancestors you didn't know,
And times that have passed their flow,
Sleuthing by accident, on investigations embark,
Because something peeks at you, a corener from the dark.

They founded my entire world.

Without the names upon the page, forgetfulness would rule,
But if you dig deep enough, you'll find a few to rule.
They say that storied times, were hidden by dust,
Caused of long ago passing and ancient lust.

Where did I come from?

Wanderers did come upon,
The beauty of our shores, and then they went on,
Because of hidden scores, or maybe to win fortune,
Or were answering the call, or might have sung a different tune.

Dreaming of distant lands.

Do you think they watch us now, their long-fated legacy,
The keepers of their flame, who have lost their very name?
We pass their works most every day,
And often look the oher way.

They sowed our seeds strong and true.

But long ago they lived and loved,
Their hearts held common joys,
And yes they shared sorrows,
And faded into gray.

Lost into the mists of time.

Hidden in old papers, crumbling markers,
Are fantastic stories, hopes and dreams.
They precede us, yet await us.
Shall we do them proud?


AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 06/29/2000

Author's Comments

History. It's weight is on the grandest scale. Ancestors we barely know. I recently stumbled on some genealogical sites regarding my family quite by chance. It's fascinating. My family comes from, as far as I can tell, a small but highly regarded Barony in England or Britain. I think I'll dig a bit. Who knows who I'll get to know?

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	6/29/2000 2:57:49 AM 9/18/2020 2:26:42 PM	1020

Author	Email	Web
Daniel A. Stafford	aqmstaffo@mailbag.com	www.mailbag.com/users/aqmstaffo/index.html

Total Comments: 1

Comments
APoetsPerspective			6/29/2000 2:09:29 PM
This was pretty fascinating, and a good poem to describe the process. Let us know what you might dig up! -j

Dancing In The Sky

 

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	6/28/2000 1:24:09 AM 10/19/2020 1:29:01 AM	728

Dancing In The Sky

Is it just a pretty dream?
Are the stars nothing more than God's Christmas lights?
Are we just to stand here down below,
Wishing we could really boldly go?

I just don't think so!

Shuttles rise in columns of dancing smoke and fire,
And astronauts are privy to a view that's higher,
But I'll tell you a secret of mine, a hidden desire.
I wan't to ride the flame before I retire!

There are things we all should know.

The stars look wondrous draped across the midnight sky,
But that is just one of the least of the reasons why.
Beyond this Earth are riches, of spirit and of things,
And a destination with no boundaries there to clip our wings.

Let me paint you a picture.

Europa, moon of Jupiter, land of ice and snow,
Shines like an icy jewel, has an ocean just below.
Mars has ancient rivers burried under rust,
And lot's of room to live, so get there or bust!

Floating like a feather in spectacular stark relief.

The white-washed Moon, looking cold and bare,
Is a world of treasures, just over there.
Stepping stone to the stars, perhaps a diamond mine,
A lightness of being, you will literally find.

There is so much awaiting us.

Ganymede another world, Callisto's twin,
Mines and factories, could be hidden within.
No biosphere to pollute, no reason to refute,
An economy of scale, a frontier economy that will never fail.

We're the life meant to be out there.

Stars in all their colors that shine out in the void,
Dancing rings of Saturn, no need for paranoid,
Delusions or to fear, It's plain as the nose upon your face,
That we should go, it's the future and destiny of our race.

The Solar System is our home.

Isn't it time we left the cradle and learned to live in the entire house?


AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C)06/28/2000

Author's Comments

I think it's well known how I feel on this subject, but there are things many people have yet to take the time to learn. We have the methods to expand the places we can live for centuries yet to come awaiting us right out there. We can make homes in places of the harshest nature that contain both beauty and safety, we've proven that again and again. Our ancestors dared to tread where they were told monsters lived, or that they would fall off the very world. Now we make up stories of aliens to scare ourselves into a small corner of the universe, children not yet willing to leave the nest. Just a few bold souls so far have gone. To see the Earth from orbit, And see that lines of national boundaries are a joke in the cosmic scheme of things. And shame on us to leave all our eggs in one basket this way when we could do better. So very, very much awaits us in the near future. Urge these grand explorers and creators of our future on I say!. I am thankful there are those out there who see the light.....of a distant star.

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	6/28/2000 1:24:09 AM 10/19/2020 1:29:01 AM	728

Author	Email	Web
Daniel A. Stafford	aqmstaffo@mailbag.com	www.mailbag.com/users/aqmstaffo/index.html

A Toast For Bride & Groom

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	6/27/2000 12:15:35 PM 10/6/2020 3:33:16 PM	714

A Toast For Bride & Groom

On this, your sacred day, as you hold each other near,
We shall pour a thousand wishes, for happiness in your ear.

You have families that cheer you on, Parents to lend a hand,
And through the years and tough times, with you we shall stand.

Unto each other, be always true.

Your greatest strength in this world; 

Each others' love,
And the kindness of the Lord granted from above.

The one you lean on, into your elder days,
Stands here beside you now, and will in many ways.

Be kind to your love.

When times are hardest, the person you gave your vow to,
The person who loves you, the one who will see you through,
Well then, it's time to take their hand,
And face the world together, to make a united stand.

Rejoice in your love.

When times are fairest, turn to your love and smile,
And share your joy with the heart, that's been with you the whole while.
When you look into the eyes, reaching out to you for love,
Always give it freely, it's the kindest gift from up above.

May all your seasons be filled with a union of love.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C)06/27/2000

Author's Comments

I am to be the best man at my younger brother's wedding this weekend. I believe I am to lead the toasting of the young couple. I hope this is a kind gift to them both. Larry and Patty, may you live in love forever!

Love,

Dan & Saren

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	6/27/2000 12:15:35 PM 10/6/2020 3:33:16 PM	714

Author	Email	Web
Daniel A. Stafford	aqmstaffo@mailbag.com	www.mailbag.com/users/aqmstaffo/index.html

 

My Legacy...

 

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	6/26/2000 12:06:38 PM 11/3/2020 3:10:58 AM	3992

My Legacy...

I tell this to my son,
Should he read it some day,
You know he is the one,
And loved in a special way.

I want so much to do this right.

If I can teach, and give you many skills,
Then hopefully you're safer, crossing distant hills.
If I can show you kindness, and a father's gruff love,
Then hopefully you'll know, you were sent from up above.

Through any obstacle, I will wage a fight.

Though in your younger years, we were kept apart,
In the grand new future, we'll make a brand new start.
I can't agree with others, I must decide my mind,
On how best to give you, skills and nature kind.

These are my gifts to you.

So when you were still questioning, as I hope you'll always do,
I'll have done my best to answer, with reasons true.
And if you ever wonder, if I really care,
Then I'll give you my legacy, because I will fight to be there.

I hope so much that you know.

Time will tell how I do this, is it shining grand,
But if I can possibly, I'll watch you grow to stand,
Just a bit taller, in your heart.

I love you my son.

Let that be my legacy.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 06/26/2000

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	6/26/2000 12:06:38 PM 11/3/2020 3:10:58 AM	3992

Author	Email	Web
Daniel A. Stafford	aqmstaffo@mailbag.com	www.mailbag.com/users/aqmstaffo/index.html

Total Comments: 7

Comments
APoetsPerspective			6/27/2000 6:12:22 AM
Very nice Daniel, leaving a message or verse for our children is always very touching, and also very dear. I've written several for my daughter, which she may someday read. Thanks, John
Janine Daniel	spinnys@hotmail.com	www.spinnys.com	7/6/2000 11:47:18 AM
Congratulations Dan for winning with this poem. I'm not at all surprised, it's beautiful. I can imagine how your son will feel when he is old enough to understand it. What a lovely idea. I think he's a lucky boy having a father like you.
Constance	moondanczer@aol.com		7/8/2000 1:59:53 AM
I hope to one day to share my legacy with a son of my very own. Thank you for reminding me how important it is. Your poem is beautiful and has touched me. Keep up the good work Daniel.
Janiece	javan56@yahoo.com		7/13/2000 11:26:14 AM
Oh Dan! How wonderful! I've been meaning to check back to look at your postings again, and I'm very glad I did!
Claud	klugecc@jps.net		7/19/2000 10:24:08 PM
Hi It occurred to me that as poets we tend to be somewhat self-centered at times and thereby miss a lot of good things that others have to offer. I, therefore, have undertaken to read and comment on all the poems posted on the 50 most veiwed and 50 most recent catagories. I can find some good in the poorest of poetry and something to critisize in the best of poetry. The project may take some time but the fact that you are reading this should indicate that I've read this piece and enjoyed, at least, some if not all of what you ‘ve written. I'll leave the judging to the experts. It.s enough for me to know the you cared enough to share your work with us all. I would also encourage you all to share your thoughts with me and all the others that have contributed to this website. Just remember: A SONG IS NOT A SONG ‘TIL YOU SING IT A BELL IS NOT A BELL ‘TIL YOU RING IT LOVE IS NOT PUT IN YOUR HEART TO STAY LOVE IS NOT LOVE ‘TIL YOU GIVE IT AWAY Claud
L.B. Stawn	poetman99@aol.com	http://hometown.aol.com/petezman1/lbpoems/lbpoetry.htm My home page-sign guest book	7/27/2000 10:56:59 PM
Wouldn't it be wonderful if more parents felt this way. Having raised 4 children and having 15 grandchildren. I empathize with you thoughts.
Sue Allie	bttfly9@yahoo.com	http://www.geocities.com/Heartland/Garden/9843	7/31/2000 8:43:17 AM
What a great poem! Telling a kid is one thing, but to express yourself and write it down is extra special!

Little Gnomes...

Little Gnomes...

Counters keepers,

Flying fingers,

Hyper accurate,

Amazing figures,

Out of gardens they grow,

Tally,

Tally,

Tally ho!

Count grace,

Count rays of light.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford

© 11/04/2020

Sartia's Halo Polish...

Sartia's Halo Polish... 

Even halos get dulled,

Centuries of flights in all weather,

Missions of mercy and constant scenes of agony,

The acid in an angel's tears pits even the best materials,

And the corrosion of the soul facing death,

Time after time after time,

Followed by the healing expansion of spirit,

The one you get in the joy of a miracle delivered,

The flowery scent of tears of joy,

When a mother sees her child cry away near death,

Surviving with no longer fevered little curls,

Still damp with the sweat of fate,

Sartia's hands have always been brave,

As she scrubs the crags of woe from their halos,

As each touch brings a flash of the visions,

The sight of what the Heavenly host have borne,

As Sartia rinses them with martyrs' blood,

And tears of requited love,

Under God's golden moonlight,

In her little garden world of pale roses,

Her blue eyes are ancient,

And her soft face is ever young,

As the shaken hug her in mutual comfort,

Their halos returned after each brief respite,

Their crushing weight for a time lifted,

She cries but softly in her state of gentle grace.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford

(C) 12/18/2001

An Adornment Of Paper...