Stuart Miller-Osborne

In these days of waste I find the snow woman To be an ugly creature With a thin face and loose lank hair   She is known to carry a sword During the mighty snow storms It is said for her own protection But I doubt this as she has no predators  

021221 211221 221221   Are twins but not in the truest sense of the word I am really cross with 021221 as it tripped me up Whilst I was carrying a bag of dishes and glasses Only four out of the ten survived although I was unhurt   211221 and 221221 follow on consecutive days…

Amelia and I were sitting on the beach When a silver jump jet landed on a sandbank It stayed there for a few minutes before taking off Vertically into the clear white blue blue sky The jump jet then began to entertain us with extravagant manoeuvres Before slowly changing into a strawberry jelly right before…

Iggyug Popinov was a furry gonk I was given it as a child My furry gonk is no more It was lost many years ago Abandoned during a move Only his his odd name survives Which is quite similar to us all As after the fun and games have ended Only the names survive Either…

Geraldine was standing in the rowing boat She was playing her violin Six flamingos were watching her There were usually seven But one has travelled abroad Because of a family illness

The year is pursuing its bleak conclusion My Christmas Cactus has slowly flowered Our winter horizons are now pink blush red        

I would like to travel to the South Seas and lay naked in your strong arms I would like to share perfumed tea with you and read The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam I would like to walk on a beach during a blush sunset and share a bitter lemon My summer dresses are now in…

I almost died in my dream As I had become trapped When my one time school friends Stormed the hill that we were defending Most of my comrades Had been killed in the shelling But I had only been lightly injured When my school friends arrived They began bayoneting the injured I was preparing for…

What is reality Is there a reality Or is it all a dream I have just drifted Though a day Full of spirits I have yet To find a reality       No artist tolerates reality (Nietzsche)        

Not many summers ago I saw a beautiful Jewess With raven hair and raven eyes Weeping by a wooden fence I enquired about the source And saw that she was loosely shackled She told me that her husband had trapped her As he was jealous of her considerable beauty And did not want her to…