Stuart Miller-Osborne

My sister September Is a sly mistress Unlike August and July Who are much more earthly When discussing desires

Today I passed a vast field Of golden sunflowers Which were so spectacular That my eyes felt deceived

Oh for fucks sake Lizzie and I have found a tiny bothy Deep within these exposed paths It is well stocked with sensible food And coloured candles The only thing that really disappoints me Is its only book srt_moni tcode in sap

Once a year Lizzie and April Stay in a naturist hotel in Scarborough The running joke which I do not find very funny Is repeated faintly on this sympathy card Are you going to Scarborough Bare There are times when I just want to weep But I compose myself and plan the next sermon

I have just received a text from my wife Noting that she had caught our new neighbour Pleasuring herself on her small patio Lizzy was invited to share the pleasures Of the journey deep into herself What came next is something of a mystery As my disgusted phone ran slowly out of charge It appeared…

There is nothing worse than a corrupt cop I have known many in my time on the force But were they just seduced by riches Or were they an original bad egg like me

My garden which was beautiful in the summer Is being battered by the cruel autumn winds All that was bright is now dull And there is worse to come In time the snows will arrive And suffocate the vastness of my home Felicity has begun her hibernation early As she will wake up first surrounded…

Jazz from the speakeasy era Hums soulfully from my radio And an Under Wolfe howls From within a distant storm

On the wall of my white wash I have painting of a Russian princess Only her face is clearly visible Christina has the most amazing eyes Which are as blue as hidden ice

The filthy sky is now brown grey All the liquid gutters Are featureless and flat I am no longer illuminated