Stuart Miller-Osborne

As part of the mission To build me up After my recent virus Joan prepared A cheese toasty for me As well as a dish Of scalding Vegetable soup It was whilst I was enjoying the meal That I noted a Hollow Pasta Tube What seemed at first To be a mundane discovery Soon turned…

Joe Audrey Comment vas-tu I am good Your photograph was amazing Thank you Why do French women have such a great sense of style Am I qualified to answer that question Very much You are French You have beautiful girls in England Yes but they are very few Even if an English girl is beautiful…

I met you at the dance class Hiding behind your shades This was the first time That we had ever met I felt that I had known you Sharing many common years Your perfumes seemed familiar And the prime colours in display A Poem by Lena

When I first read the script I loved it I loved every word But Joe had his reservations Which influenced me Even though I did not want him to influence me What were his objections I do not think that they were objections I think that he thought that the role was was beneath me…

Why does Rupert always drop by When I am sunbathing next to the pool I am far from shy but he tends to interrupt The slow music of my summer days

Is an architect Her creations Can be seen In many European cities

Who is your oldest friend Dawn False Dawn Why is she called False Dawn Because she promises riches But does not deliver If she tells you That a door is unlocked That a door is unloved Then it is sure to be locked Then it is sure to be loved

Tell me something Lena My cunt is the hinterland of my soul What do you think of my cunt I think it is the most beautiful cunt That I have ever seen Have you seen many cunts I cannot complain Out of ten Ten Why Because it is so groomed A perfect triangle You have…

Why are beautiful landscapes the most mysterious I frequently have love with strangers It is less demanding

Each of the trees is banded white You enquire of the reason Which is quite obvious There is nothing more beautiful Than an avenue of summer trees Bathed in a dappled dry light A Poem by Lena