Stuart Miller-Osborne

I speak to God in many different ways Sometimes in my dreams on hot summer nights Or as I disentangle his lost angels From the patterns of trees that touch The many cinemas in my small home town

After many years of being friends Alice and I became lovers I remember running my finger Down her beautiful spine And tracing her soft contours With my eyes tightly closed Erotic Poems of Summer (2026)

You were wearing your white petticoat When I visited you yesterday afternoon I could see that you were quite naked Beneath the respectability of your garment A gift of the light or a fleeting shadow This is what I found so deeply erotic Erotic Poems of Summer (2026)

As Lawrence would have said The Nanny Goat In a White Petticoat Silliness of it all Warnings after warnings Designed to help But all they do is confuse Those who lack the ability To think for themselves This never used to be the case As on the day of our birth We were handed a…

I was wandering along the promenade Towards the towns main beach When I passed a mobile sauna Which was totally full This confused me as only yards away Was the sea the sand and a naked soprano Whose songs were sweet and summer soothing It was thirty six degrees thirty six fucking degrees And you…

I visited a church Which was illuminated From within I caught a bus From a bus stop That did not exist I searched for a station On a closed line And found no trains I met a refugee Who had been adopted By a local family As a future actress Had once been welcomed Before…

He had stared mathematics in the face Not once but on two random occasions His movements had not been planned They had been erratic on a hot slow day But nonetheless their paths soon crossed Deep in the middle of a forgotten ocean

He cares for me Wherever I am I know That he is there Today he was a sailor The captain of a passing ship He spoke to me in a soft voice As he sailed away from our home

A violent storm hit Bath late this afternoon Roads were flooded and buses were delayed In the nearby town of Bradford on Avon There was a garden full of concrete bears They appeared on television some years ago Just as my brother and I were passing by

There is a green and white yacht In the shallows near the harbour wall Which has a rather unusual name Having been named after a local saint