Stuart Miller-Osborne

My village is defined by the huge river How I wish I could cross that river Which is impossible even in the summer This area is known for its beautiful orchids I live with my aunt who decorates parasols These are much sought after by those from cities She says that my talent is far…

You were asleep on the bed I was watching you dream You then joined me by the window We shared a cigarette and chatted quietly About the humidity and stillness of the night

I have a blue ticket which permits me To travel to the main city and return Please let me borrow your shawl These are my sweetest memories

There is a gate much damaged by war Standing across the only road out of town It was once occupied by the rifles of brutal snipers So many innocents died as they tried to escape And their pale ghosts haunt the wide snow wastes

Jane and I went to a coastal fair She danced a tango with a coffee pot And purchased an eighteenth century book Along with a tiny doll late of Normandy

The breeze was quite pleasant Having travelled without pace All of the way from the tropics

It had rained all night Warm Summer Rain I woke up to bright sunshine Which was typical of this area

Will and Jane visited The Roads to Freedom today As they had plans To fill a small glass jar With many of the things found During their casual walk

My invisible brother Lives with her mother As they love each other I am his half sister Gill

What are you reading The Thirties and After By Stephen Spender Are you trying to seduce me What makes you say that Because you are letting fine sand Drift through your elegant fingers And fall on to my soft summer legs