Stuart Miller-Osborne

Mother I have been writing poetry for some years It is quite ordinary and very personal I write about my village and our country ways And the vicar who I admire so very much But I will not write about this war There are plenty of men better suited To write these painful poems Therefore […]

As Edwin’s coffin was carried from his earthly home It brushed quietly against the privet hedge I remember him once telling me That he liked his garden and especially its privet hedge It felt like the hedge was bidding him farewell

I have a mad dog in my yard It has savaged an innocent child I feel that I should shoot the beast But fear the criticism of my close friends

I am walking along the near the silent boats In Mithymna on Lesbos It is now seven thirty eight Molly is watching me on a webcam Wearing the canary yellow vest That I gave her before I left I am wearing a white cotton shirt Which was her gift to me Molly is planning to […]

When I awoke this morning I found that there were no more bees They had vanished into my dreams This terrified me as I no longer dream

You can feel the softness Of the Apple Fields On your bare skin Summer Dreams on Winter Nights Wind blossoms litter the sky Dappling the sunlight Your hand is chilled Mine is still warm

Today I received a glass calligraphy pen Blue in colour As dark as the ink that I use I am searching for lost rivers Which all remain hidden Flowing without dreams My rough pad is quite vacant I have recorded nothing Apart from this frail poem

Your Move Eve

Chess at Sixty

The day is mild Super Mild The sky is grey Super Grey There is no sunlight Even the waves are dull The gulls are quiet Super Quiet I have chalked this poem On to a rock And cast it into the sea Super Poem Super Sea This poem is based on true events All characters […]