Stuart Miller-Osborne

Migrating birds linger high In the blue mountain skies

Petals fragrant in the hot summer winds Have smothered the city of my dreams

Where does she rest High up there in the dunes What memories do you have She exhibited a sense Of compete peace Within her dull paleness Were her eyes open No they were closed As if she was somewhere else Was she your girlfriend No just a friend What was her name Nesta her name […]

The last I remember of Nesta Was sleeping next to me In her bunk Before the terrible storm

They found the gentle sailor On the low beach Wearing only panties Her saturated lungs Were full of the sea Angelo pulled her from The shallow waters Whilst his brother Donated the modesty Of his thoughts

Many did not return And the soft geography That I was casually studying Was screaming into time

The interior of the railway carriage Has been decorated with colourful icons And scenes from the day of the dead Jess found this rather unusual But a cool and refreshing change From the normal company postcards

A deep sea mist had formed silently Since the early milk hours May had recorded this In her diary As later in the day she would be travelling Along coastal lines to meet her lover His kisses would be sweeter than honey

I was standing where thousands Had once stood In fear and anticipation Waiting to cross a difficult sea Many did not return And the soft geography That I was casually studying Was screaming into time

I grow citric vegetables in my kutten gaeswn I grow citric vegetables in my kitchen garden