Stuart Miller-Osborne

I watched Rodgers carriage arrive And then I watched it leave He is my mystery lover I suppose Or so he leads me to believe   Don Juan Flowers Gaiety Travel And Love That Is All I Require Of The World   Don Juan I asked him whether he would fight a duel over me […]

Espace L’infini des belles femmes Néant L’Univers Chante Pour moi Les géants sont des nains Dans l’espace, personne ne peut t’entendre crier Je regarde trop de films       Agnes 2020      

The sea was where I had left it when I chose to sleep You were still hidden by our white cotton sheets During the summer months we sleep on the balcony So that we can wake up to the gentle sea breezes and perfumed air   I am reading a book of soft pastoral poetry […]

On the last day of August I was stung by a wasp It was a painful raw sting And I destroyed the assassin in an instant However about a month later I became ill I am getting better now which is a blessing The wasp is dead and its remains are dust But its memory […]

I found an angel on my pillow last week She told me that Jesus was in the next room And so he was He was not dressed in white robes as I expected him to be But in dirty overalls and a red bandana You look more like a steelworker than the Son of God […]

From the window of my hotel I can see the streets Under a deep sea of light It seems as if the city has flooded   Buses cars and pedestrians Can be seen and almost touched Busy under the bright surface Of the false sea beneath me   The effect has of course Been created […]

After we had made love Esther and I walked to the green park We rested in the shadows of a massive oak tree Which was welcome as the day was hot and without air   We must have rested for about half and hour When suddenly there was an enormous crash And the brittle sound […]

Leonard Cohen Once wrote A poem That is special to me It is about light And the sources Of light I will not reproduce it As it will be more Rewarding To search for this poem In a darkened room  

I have just returned from Hanoi The winter daises were in full bloom In the botanical gardens That border the Red River   When I visited these gardens I wore my white cotton dress And gathered a large bouquet As a gift for my grandmother     Letter from my pen friend in Vietnam   

Lena was waiting for a train at a small Swiss railway station She was reading a novel by Ayn Rand The question not who is going to let me  But its who is going to stop me  This collection of seemingly random words Were spinning in her head In the distance she heard the siren […]