Stuart Miller-Osborne

Whilst walking on a beach  Under a cerulean sky I closed my eyes  For a just a blink And mistook it for July 

The Green Train  Is a familiar sight Once a hour  Twice at weekends  Little changes  Under the ancient ruins Of the castle  On the hill

Letters from a non-stop city Likenesses from home  In a few hours  I will begin to travel once again It has always been about the journey

My daughter is currently in India And visited a beautiful yoga centre Where she meditated in front Of distant and silent mountains

 I have stolen this title from a movie That I once watched in Oxford Street I have never been to this country Although my father spent time there In the years before I was born

I have stolen this title from a movie That I once watched in Oxford Street I have never been to this country Although my father spent time there In the years before I was born My daughter is currently in India And visited a beautiful yoga centre Where she meditated in front Of distant and […]

I met my uncle in London today He was visiting the UK with Marie-Angela I have not seen them for over five years We sat in a trendy restaurant in Chelsea Celebrating his recent knighthood My uncle handed me a gift The Penguin Book of Haiku This was very thoughtful of him As although I […]

A warm breeze from the south Accompanied by a deep sun Has transformed the colours On both sides of the coastal path The grey days are gone But not totally forgotten March was a bitter friend AWC 1958

The first thing that strikes one Is the vastness of the sky The sea is infinite and reflective And changes fluidly without theatre It is a walk of dusty unmade roads Thread lined with remote coastal homes Empty or just infrequently used The idle toys of the fortunate few Late April/Early May

There was an earthquake yesterday A great deal of damage was caused But the golf carts were left untouched