Stuart Miller-Osborne

It was one of those late May days when blue warm skies are expected but do not arrive and winters dour sister stares one blankly in the face   In the background my television was telling me that a serial killer had struck again and had killed another serial killer who had in turn been […]

Today when browsing in a book shop I found a book of poems published late in 1963 which also contained a short letter from the poet The letter was written on the Boxing Day of that year It is a rather benign but friendly letter to a friend which notes that due to late publication […]

The days and the weeks are beginning To fall into each other It is typical winter But I have survived   Even though I no longer breathe I refuse to breathe in the frozen air As it brings me so much sorrow This has been a simple decision   When I look out to sea […]

I am so happy with my pieces of granite For it is a wonderful stone Grey and rough but as hard as iron It possesses an inner beauty That can be seen and gently touched Without any guilt and with the approval of God

When I was very small my parents took me on a trip on The Far Tottering and Oyster Creek Branch Railway in Battersea Park I do not remember much about the day although I remember enjoying the festive atmosphere But then six months after our visit my family moved to Africa As Dad was something […]

I have a cousin in Germany Who has the unusual name Of Lotus Weiser Wep   I have only met her once But we correspond frequently   My cousin is impossibly beautiful Although she considers herself quite plain   Later this year when the restrictions lift We are planning to travel to South East Asia […]

The Winter Heron waits patiently For the warmer winds to arrive But the silent snow has to pass Before the Brilliant Star Unveils the silk shallow paths      

I quite often moon at robins As I do not care for Christmas And do not wish to receive presents   Mooning at Hammersmith Bridge Each morning at about seven My wife moons at Hammersmith Bridge I am not sure why she does this But am told that one of her ancestors Designed this beautiful […]

jimmy jago jumped from the deep dover cliffs as the sea was no longer beautiful and the special light had dimmed  

I have seen her occasionally on the Circle Line trains With her head bowed as if she was weeping It is said that she was jilted by her first and only love Whilst travelling between Paddington and Notting Hill Gate And has waited for him ever since on this never ending line       […]