Stuart Miller-Osborne

Angel A and Micheal Were strolling arm in arm Along a narrow cobbled lane They were due to be married In a matter of hours

From the main window Of our hotel bedroom We could see the great cathedral Angel A was my fellow pilgrim

I was enjoying a coffee Outside a small cafe In a narrow cobbled lane Which was overlooked By a great cathedral

You lived on an island In the middle of a great river

The city although overlooked By threatening clouds Was at peace with itself The narrow lanes hummed To the music of its visitors Yet the air was slowly cooling Days were shorter Autumn was not far away

As my bus travelled towards the pilgrims city I witnessed the laziness of a thousand bonfires

I drifted into a bookshop And found a copy Of Boccaccio’s Decameron Printed in eighteen sixty one

I had travelled to Glastonbury /With my cousin Amelia Anne She sat with me on the Tor /We shared a sandwich It was then I noticed /That her cheeks were exposed I did not tell Amelia Anne /As it was not my place Her accidental exposure/ Was of such small importance Erotic Poems of Summer

I adjusted my filters for maximum effect Whilst waiting for the moon to appear

There were a number of people on the beach All looking out to sea and following the sky Fires were lit as the skies slowly darkened Which glowed like false beacons far ashore