Stuart Miller-Osborne

The youth who parted from his parents and his aunt on the 9th of January 1825 and who left London on Tuesday the 18th of January after his return from Calais on the morning of the 16th is informed that all matters are settled and beg that he will not defer writing to enable them […]

The healthy technician stole a painting by Vincent From an art gallery In the city of angels It was a painting of sunflowers in a vase He kept it in a darkened room As he could not afford to power the single bulb The sunflowers brought him a joy That he had not experienced Since […]

The foam funnels of Frenchay Hospital Amused my father When he was seriously ill They were demolished ten years before my birth So I was never able to share their humour    

Amaryllis and Jonas her German cousin were walking on the slight chalk path that led to the farmhouse On either side of them were barley fields nearing maturity Amaryllis looked at the rough flowers that hid in the long grass on the edge of the crop fields She picked a small red flower and handed […]

Every morning when I wake up I open my eyes and look at the Marlborough Downs Unless it is misty Or if the rain is hard Then all I can see is the rough grey road Today the mist is quite thick Almost fog And I have bored of the road Quite quickly So I […]

For the best part of his life Latimer has taken deformed medicines which lay dormant in the milk of his church He lived alone at the Brave Baltic Farm which was some ten miles from the nearest town In the Rufus Report he was recorded as owning some sixty acres Mostly fallow But sometimes worked […]

Spiegel Ein baum Und Ein Gott Nun loben Der Grund Der meister Ist mein Ruhige freund Blaue blumen Solche freude! Solche freude!   Ikon   Goldene Hoffnung Im Dunkel Welt    

Last month two tourists were murdered in Frazer Park I knew who their assassins were So adopting a disguise I followed them back to their ghetto And shot them to death A full scale gang war is now in progress But at least the tourists are safe   A friend from Saturn rang me and […]

The barren fields Offer little But torment The winter Will be kind    

The wind was weaving slow patterns In her amber hair As she kissed each of the soldiers in turn Showing genuine affection They all faced westwards And listened to the music Of the ether trees