Stuart Miller-Osborne

My pretty white villa Had been requisitioned By the friendly officers They had left their own frescoes On the smooth concert walls And even all these years later I could hear the music of the sea

I was sitting on a concrete deck Which had once housed A loathsome weapon Although the morning was calm Its history irritated the sea

Jane was wearing navy blue shorts And a nothing there vest Which showed her sleepy nipples The gazebo was moving gently In the warm morning breeze Erotic Poems of Summer

Jane sunbathed in front Of our white washed villa Blue reflected by an inland sea Erotic Poems of Summer

Jane would often shower In distress of weather Much to the amusement Of our many guests Erotic Poems of Summer

Our flower seller Once squatted here I often visited him When passing bye

My flower seller Lived in our cellar During the war

The vacancy is dulled But never filled

Seven minus three equals four Eye Em Sea Tea

My dream was odd extreme I was walking along a freezing path Cut into an icy wilderness In the distance there was a rope bridge Strung high above an endless gorge On the opposite side a living island God chosen and full of wealth Was awaiting the result of my journey My bravery was about…