Stuart Miller-Osborne

Last month the Royal Family visited my small town As I was unimportant I did not meet them And spent the day in my perfumed bath When the splendour had subsided I visited the beach How fragrant I was I picked up a pebble And awoke it from its slumbers It began to speak to…

In the multi-coloured craze room Anne and Daphne merged without protest Into the rapid patterns of the poppy cloth         After the painting Sarah Rose Troughton 

I can see your withered petals The season has not been kind to you But you still retain a faded splendour Which illuminates your imaginary cell

I am reading Moby Dick in the shadow of my church Shower clouds threaten but pass over me without issue The wind is chilly for early May Great Days are promised

All was silent in my room when I returned I had been shoplifting again Which is an art And I am Michelangelo I only steal high grade goods A handbag here a dress there Underwear is so easy to steal As long as you have a generous coat I look from my window at the…

I am walking with you along the Champs-Elysees We are both thinking of the long days and nights That we have spent together In our guest house in Place Vendome A friend from the future has told me That Paris might burn in years to come But all that burns at present Are the passions…

Only the warmest of summer days are committed to memory   Others fade into mystery and are seldom recalled   You played the part of an ingénue rather well   But this is said to have covered your darker secrets   Byron once noted in a memorable jest that   The Cant is much stronger…

I have been born many times My initial birth was that of a ladybird But I was eaten by a predator Ladybirds do not have predators   Well this ladybird found a predator   Whether recorded or not   My mother was so upset that she gave birth to me again This time I was…

The golden goblet that I hold contains not a fine wine But the beating heart of my dearest husband We had wed secretly away from the eyes of my father Yet he discovered my deceit and ordered a slaughter I have committed to end my life without shedding a tear But my cheeks lie and…

What glory is there in defeat It is not a defeat that can be seen But a defeat nonetheless You will not rise again This is a dream Have no thoughts of glory As you have ceased to exist