Stuart Miller-Osborne

I have returned the driftwood Into the astonished sea It was an agreed sacrifice Beachcomber The artists have removed The morning light I weep at their betrayal Beachcomber When the sad eyed girl asks you to join her in the wild waves accept the invitation as you will never travel again

In these waters of mediocrity only the young fish will admire their mauveine coats     It was noted that the Union Canal in Greenford was coloured mauve by the dyes from the Perkins factory.  

Then angels would play Poohsticks On the bridges of the cosmos And Tennyson’s church In Shiplake Oxfordshire Would become the centre of the universe And wars would be fought On Scrabble boards The winner Being the country That could spell War The most times In Serbo Croat All poems would End in Dulce et decorum […]

Do proceed with caution Through my gradual doors You may see unfinished lands But do not be fooled by their luxury Await my theatre

The rabbit was hallucinating as mother earth pulled it from a hat What fevers do you have ? I have no fever I only seek shelter from the corruption of the day as my wings remain unfinished.

Swindon v Port Vale This football match was played on the 2nd November 2013 I did not attend As the result did not matter to me

I could have written a fiction, about visiting my mother’s lost but remembered school and finding a poem written by her when she was nine years old hidden in a forgotten cupboard. But this is untrue The poem was written in 1933 and is presented in its entirety. I have made no additions or subtractions. […]

The Way Man takes fright at the bright light moon might of the subtle seasons sliding The Forest Clearing   shows no signs of age only the dying ferns imagine mortality On an Aspect of Liddington Hill In an instant her aprons were raised and the children beneath offered me alms which I spent wisely […]

If you present food on rainbow plates It loses its colour and taste. Always present food on white plates

The Deserter In the midst of the battle I laid down my gun And began my proxy wars   Birthland The place where I was born Is covered in ash I have no history   The Centre of the Road I was new born In the centre of the road Cars passed me on each […]