Stuart Miller-Osborne

The world is full of false reflections I have collected them in my small leather book

Sorrow had befriended Lopez A Spanish dwarf from Seville To help him with his translations Lopez was blind in one eye The result of a childhood accident

Sorrow was sitting in front Of a pathetic gas fire He had been studying The poetry of Gongora For most of the term

Your tongue has hardened my nipple Or is it the declining breeze of the day Erotic Thoughts of Summer

I have been watching The suns reflection On the surface of the river For many hours In time it will fade And I will return to my bed Olivia B

I am lying in a cornfield After a long sweaty walk Staring at a cloudless sky My idyll is soon spoilt By the hovering flies Who would likely devour me If I stopped breathing Olivia B

Used to have Very beautiful barmaids But the snows soon melted

Bar Villon Serves red ice With most drinks It is closed at weekends

My sister Tuska Suffers from a condition Of the ear It is not serious But debilitating As it affects her hearing She often lies still On the sandy beach In front of our hut And masks her good ear Hoping that she might adopt The sounds of the gentle hours

It will be a simple scene A boyish girl with short dark hair Walks amongst bleached white rocks She has been swimming naked in the sea Slowly she changes into her black bikini And begins to climb up a steep cliff path I will end the scene there As I do not want to over […]