Stuart Miller-Osborne

The orange sun had turned pink The sea had retained its hour

The horizon had almost vanished Into the history of this day

Next to the agents decaying offices There was a small shop Selling almost everything It was quite heavily used By passing barges And to the day of its closure Always turned a small profit After the abandonment of this part of the arm The shop and the canal side offices were demolished Some of the […]

She is in my view rather nice And lacks the brashness Of her more confident sister Her perfumes are almost invisible Which adds to her subtle beauty Although they do share the white

History does not repeat itself  But sometimes it rhymes  That is why I am  a poet  If I was not a poet  I would be an assassin 

I often watch my friends collecting apples  It is a peaceful way to pass summer hours Apples are the most acceptable of fruits  And can often be found in ordered gardens 

Genius is of no country (Charles Churchill) Genius is nothing but continued attention (Claude Adrien Helvetius) The degree of genius necessary to please us is pretty nearly the same proportion that we ourselves have (Claude Adrien Helvetius) Be England what she will, with all her faults she is my country still (Charles Churchill) A joke’s […]

a woman absorbed by the sand and the sea will retain a happiness beyond our comprehension

I am nothing to anybody That is my greatest freedom I am nothing to anybody That is my greatest strength

Somewhere out there In a sealed metal casket Can be found her second novel One day it will be disinterred Until then my dear love We will seek nothing But the favour Of her tiny footsteps