Stuart Miller-Osborne

Our second home was tranquil Even though its position was exposed None of our windows were covered As we liked to live with the sea To the side of the steps that led to the beach Was our small swimming pool and assorted chairs We called this swimming pool La Petite Mer Or the Sea…

At first I thought I had imagined it But it was not my imagination Three short clicks equally spaced It was the same message Are revolutions composed Or are they spontaneous I spent the afternoon Watching my aunt showering I liked her perfumed soap She asked me the same question When a country runs out…

I sat on the path For only a short Space of time Nobody stopped for me A mysterious passenger Changed cars erratically And then vanished Only the lonely bus stop Remained constant In the wooden shelter A beer glass Slowly gathered dust Cars belong On the road Boats belong In the desert

Do you realise that this railway bench Is totally balanced Every part has a job to do And if it fails then chaos might follow It is what I call the balance of mathematics Quoting in practical terms it applies to the balance method This is a fundamental rule stating that any operation That is…

I have written about this before To the point of ad nauseam But everything has a lime hue Seriouslyeverything The girl who runs the paperkiosk I know wears a navy blue uniform But she is standing in front of me Wearing the same skirt blouse and jacket But attends a lime hue the specific identity…

I love you As the shore Loves the sea Your purse is full Of lost coins It will not be found

On the last day of the war I found a German soldier Hiding behind a hedge He had dumped his rifle And was reading Goethe I should have made him A Prisoner of War But chose not to do so And passed him off As my German cousin

After a vigorous walk on the beach I returned to our second home It was whilst soap showering That I noticed a moth watching me It later landed on my cheek And began chatting in a language That I could not understand What a beautiful moth you are you are What a beautiful moth you…

I have a good friend named Angharad Who shares her love of gardening with me She also works at the local garden centre I think that my friend is very beautiful But I am not attracted to her in any way Yesterday she was wearing a very loose blouse And was unknowingly exposing her breasts…

Pale moths moved erratically Around our small coastal garden Molly was waiting for the blue moon To illuminate her darkening sky