Stuart Miller-Osborne

…… The days are short This is a good opening line although rather predictable I might write God in my Hell All is Well Because of the rhyme Or I could call this poem Blind Z OR USE SIX DOTS IN BATCHES OF THREE … …

Over three generations have passed Since you were first created You may have lost your reflection And you are corroded from within But your curves are ice sharp And you still retain your original beauty The wooden table is quite new And mass produced It is pleasant to look at and functional But it possesses […]

The poor canary one of the so called sentinel species are no longer used to alert the miners to the presence of carbon monoxide It appears that our feathered friend breathing rate its size and metabolism caused it to die quickly if carbon monoxide was present thus giving the miners an early warning of the hazard […]

Each of the leaves Broken by its own weight Floats away from the mother tree       2016

Although you have been stripped of your leaves Your dignity remains You refresh each frost During those exiled months By remembering the gentle dew of summer Orange Trees You have changed from orange To a comfortable brown The pale blue sky Hides your exhaustion Orange Trees When the long nights of winter end I will […]

Your book was passed to me today By your executor Your dedication is long dry The ink pale with age But my memories of you are fresh And really that is all that matters     2016

Swarms of red rose ladybirds Hang heavily in the autumn air We are sharing a drink on our summer seat And should not be there at all As September has passed And October is spent Save for a day But what a day This day of golden avenues With its warm breezes and gentle light […]

You are travelling to Telford Give my regards to the Iron Bridge I am travelling to Oxford With Wren Wren Leipzig A goldfinch with a phenomenal intellect   If you send me a couple of selfies From your hotel room I will release the goldfinch And instruct it to travel in a northerly direction   […]

When the Queen Mother reached her ninetieth year I was in Dartmouth in South Devon The railway station in Kingswear Was highly decorated And many wore traditional costume To celebrate the occasion It was a very hot day And on the beach People wore very little But small flags of celebration Were still planted in […]