Stuart Miller-Osborne

As they walked together Through the dry valleys They were deafened By the complete silence Of a summers day

You really like Kent Were you born the county Alas no but I consider myself An honorary member A Man of Kent If I could be so bold I rather like your poetry Joe I have not written much about Kent Bishopsbourne was a lovely poem I enjoyed its slow creation But there are others…

The finest words come from Nice Philosophers My cat died in Paris or maybe it was Marseille There are some who think that my dog is still alive I will feed it when I return from walking the lobster

I have a beautiful garden in Paris Which I have named Mimi After the long forgotten river Which used to flow in this area Today I received a letter from the authorities Noting that that I must sell my garden As a new road is being built locally I have no rights of appeal During…

The truest words come from nice philosophers My cat died in Madrid or maybe it was Seville There are some who think that my cat is still alive I will feed it when I return from walking the dog

Winston Churchill was briefly photographed On a train at Bishopsbourne railway station Cigar in mouth he was reading wartime papers A secretary unseen is sitting at her typewriter She was probably in the process of taking dictation

Two worlds exist within a wisp of a mile At the top of the hill everything is new There are roads going off in many directions Yet this all fades as one descends into the valley The village is hidden for much of the route There are clues but these are often tree shrouded It…

Henry has never pushed either an occupied swing or a swing lacking occupation In short Henry does not have a swing in his small garden as there is no room But Henry is familiar with hot nights which tend to occur during the more settled months Henry has a cousin named Rose She does not…

If I had lived in those far off days I would have been elsewhere

By the time that I had reached the beach The morning had turned lime green Even the sea had changed colour Solange des Rivières was my neighbour Yet like me she had remained pale Which added to the mysteries of the day