Stuart Miller-Osborne

Lilly loved walking in the summer fields Normally she walked with Phillip In the lane towards the monks retreat But occasionally she walked alone And listened to the birds As she lay still In the long grasses Near the meeting Of the three streams

Hi Joe how are you Good Ewe Great Who is your companion Lucy She is very beautiful in the dark Abd in eep caves Sorry And in deep caves You are very fat Lucy And your armpits are a work of art Do they smell Not really as the smells are trapped in the folds […]

Rara avis is a Latin phrase that literally translates to rare bird The term originates from the Satires of the ancient Roman poet Juvenal who wrote Rara avis in terris nigroque simillima cygno Meaning a bird as rare upon the earth as a black swan Because the Romans considered black swans nonexistent It became an […]

I went to a Ragtime Bar In the South of the City Where I met a girl of rare acquaintance She asked if she might come to my apartment (which was cooler than her basement flat) We chatted about orchids for about half an hour I asked her about the scar on her arm Which […]

Before he went to sleep in his technicolor bed Balanski would ask Greta Two to make him a sandwich Cold meat cheese honey jam molasses he was not choosy Balanski worked at a travel agents in South Morocco Avenue With Christina who dealt with the Spanish speaking customers

I had a pink and yellow dream last night In this dream I was accused of being a thief When in fact I was totally innocent Another resident of my village was the thief I was placed under house arrest and totally ignored Although there were many stories about me Written on young trees and […]

The three Pauline’s Were sitting on the beach There were identically dressed Shirts white shorts pink Each was barefoot They were staring Into the middle distance I enquired of their dreams But received no answer

daisy rose from her broken bed her room was still full of love she closed her eyes and was travelling on a airless train with the children of sin these were their silver lives these were their silver dreams a song from daisy rose for simeon simon

Please do not smoke on my studio As I am trying to capture the light I am sorry that my example is poor Am I good as I am Ana Yes as I prefer your light blue shirt My mother gave it to me And now I am giving it to you I do hope […]

I have during this spell of hot weather Taken to sitting in the garden As the night passes slowly by From my chair I can see my wife Far away in her lunar dreams Quite naked on her open bed Erotic Poems of Summer (2026)