Stuart Miller-Osborne

I have just risen from my bed You are sitting in the garden I stand on the shaded patio With the remnants of a hard on You smile and sip your coffee I scratch my hairy arse You are wearing a cropped tee shirt Legs legs legs your endless legs You are wearing my favourite […]

I used to have a wife named Valentine But I have not seen her for many years She left me for a Spanish sailor I occasionally kiss her likeness Which hangs next to the Chagall

She told me that she Could see into my apartment And watched me write alone I was always staring into space This is where I could be often found She told me that she was an artists model Which given the artist often payed well Had I seen her in her apartment And would I […]

Like most writers I did not write I just sat in front of an old wooden desk My neighbour was called Flamingo Her mother was from Brazil She had no father that I knew about My apartment overlooked her apartment I watched her life away from the city Although we were both part of the […]

I used to stay with my cousin in Finland These were memorable holidays I can still remember making daisy chains With Edith after our morning sauna We always used the same daisies From the southern fields near the lake

The only trouble with staying with friends Is that one is not familiar with the geography Of their mysterious apartments This morning was a good example I had dashed to the bathroom quite naked As I was breaking my neck for a piss I thought I had the locked the door but failed dismally And […]

from the deeper of the two railway stations we walked towards the high promenade which overlooks the sea today is a hot sunny day people are troubled ninety has been reached the town is strangely quiet it is almost sleeping

A buffalo is watching me Through the blue swirling mists It realises that I mean it no harm But it does not trust me As I am considered unpredictable

We have been as sisters Since our early school days I love seeing Cambric On cool autumn mornings Whereas she prefers me On dark summer nights We frequently walk On freshly cut lawns Dew heavy and without shoes She is my perfect companion And I am her loving friend Erotic Poems of Summer

A pigeon died this afternoonWhich is highly unusual As road fatalities are almost unheard of