Stuart Miller-Osborne

After the music of the crimson sunsets  I spend my nights watching the moon  As she travels silently through eternity 

Today was a day of white light  I spent it high on a promenade  Never had the fading year  Looked so beautiful  Yet I was not totally happy  As I knew that that the day  Would not last more than a few hours   And that the darkness would soon follow

you were born  in a time  of autumn leaves  a time of white skies  and crisp golden shadows  you are a child of the tenth month  who inherited the beauty of the world 

I was sitting on a speaking seat  Not far from a crazy clock reading Tender is the Night  As I always did  When the days were fair On this high promenade  You asked me about Nicolas Hawksmoor  And about the colourful beach huts below  I knew nothing of these silent mysteries We shared a slow […]

I found Elisabeth Olsen sleeping  In the Church of the Unknown Martyrs  This was quite commonplace  A typical behaviour  I believe that Elisabeth liked me  As when in the right mind  She could pass through all levels  Of polite and genteel society Yet I nearly always found her  Covered in mud wearing only a shift  Having […]

On the 20th of July 1923 the Prince of Wales  Visited Dorchester and there met Thomas Hardy  This event was recorded in the diary of my grandfather  He also noted that on the morning of the royal visit  That he had dropped an ice cream cornet and a chocolate flake  Into the small goldfish pond at […]

My prime of youth is but a frost of cares Who wrote that line Lola  Chidiock Tichborne It was the first line of an elegy that he wrote  Whilst awaiting execution in the Tower of London   What had he done to deserve such a fate  He had conspired with others to assassinate Queen Elizabeth the […]

There are two people sitting on the beach  They are looking out to sea  One appears to have worked  In the Tower of London  Until recently  As he possesses  A well defined upper body strength  The other is a women possibly from Serbia  She is wearing a fluorescent pink shirt 

I am sitting in a church porch  Waiting for the service to finish  It is not that I have abandoned my beliefs  I was just late in my arrival  The grey flagstones in front of me  Have been worn smooth with age  And are pleasant to look at and gently touch  Beyond the porch I […]

Today I found a photograph  Of a rose wisteria rose tunnel  It was taken on an October day    By the late poet John Claire  He called this photograph  My poetry descending into nothingness  This was his final poem