Stuart Miller-Osborne

Jane was wearing navy blue shorts And a nothing there vest Which showed her sleepy nipples The gazebo was moving gently In the warm morning breeze Erotic Poems of Summer

Jane sunbathed in front Of our white washed villa Blue reflected by an inland sea Erotic Poems of Summer

Jane would often shower In distress of weather Much to the amusement Of our many guests Erotic Poems of Summer

Our flower seller Once squatted here I often visited him When passing bye

My flower seller Lived in our cellar During the war

The vacancy is dulled But never filled

Seven minus three equals four Eye Em Sea Tea

My dream was odd extreme I was walking along a freezing path Cut into an icy wilderness In the distance there was a rope bridge Strung high above an endless gorge On the opposite side a living island God chosen and full of wealth Was awaiting the result of my journey My bravery was about […]

Such was the blindness Of the scouting birds That the seasons passed unnoticed And faded without thought Letter from Jean (1972)

The difference between the endless nights and endless days of my younger brother could not be measured using conventional instruments Letter from Jean (1972)