Author: Stuart Miller-Osborne

  • Monza 

    On the whole cats are afraid of me  Which I find puzzling as I am gentle  And exceedingly kind to ladybirds 

  • The Finest City High Time Crashed

    Oh Dreams Oh Dreams  I was in a German camp  Where atrocities had taken place  But I was a guard on the gate  An innocent guard  A wooden gate  Painted red and white  Occasionally soldiers came down for a smoke  Or to wash their hands  In the wooden bucket on the path to the latrines  The […]

  • The Stour in Flood

    During the long warm months These ancient steps encourage leisure But not today as they are quite submerged By the winter rivers mindless turbulence

  • Adelphi 

    I first met Veronika walking topless along a country road  She did not seem to worry about her state of dress  I asked her why I should find her on such a lonely road  She told me that she was planning to visit my brothers  And accepted my offer to accompany her to the home  That I […]

  • Kangaroos at Sunrise

     I can see more than a dozen kangaroos  Relaxing on the wet sands of the beach  They are unaware of my intrusion  I am eating pomegranates and cherries   On a large but hidden verandah  As I always do when the sun is low 

  • SEED

    First Ghost/Second Ghost  Accaopsy is Innocent Eccaopsy is Innocent Stuart Miller Osborne/Joe SMO/Joe/SMO Mahler  Mozart  Verdi  Puccini  Haydn In no particular order

  • Banda Dances Topless

    After cutting her hair Banda danced topless Wearing only a pair of jeans   The city radio forbid this So the music stopped As not to encourage this recreation  

  • Magri Maa

    Magri Maa is a small village Not far from Fort William I used to holiday there With my distant parents   I visited Magri Maa A few weeks ago As I was in Scotland To attend a funeral   It seemed much smaller But little else had changed I even found a rusty penknife That […]

  • The Girl in Green

    Nearing womanhood she stands In the shadow of a great tree Her clothes are rather fine Silk Green fair and Gold   The mysteries of her innocence Are now running quite freely From her liquid blue eyes     From Portrait of a Girl by Sir Peter Lely

  • (In the early autumn sun Julie quietly shuffled the dying golden leaves with her bare feet)

    I was being chased By the ignorant villagers I found myself in front Of the bottomless pool I had always been told To wait and so I did The rest is history my friend And this is the reason That I am selling flowers and ribbons Here on the Wimbledon Worth Road I had been […]