Stuart Miller-Osborne

I had been at the railway station for nearly a month mapping the stars Due to the complexity of my task I worked mainly at night when the sun was down and the desert was at its darkest During the day I just hung around the railway station helping the staff with mundane tasks such…

I have called this short piece Blood Wedding after the play by Lorca I did not have a title until I purchased a copy of his play in a supermarket of all places Today was one one of those late spring days where there was still a slight coolness in the air but the strength…

The freshness of the season has now faded And the trees are heavy with leaves The thin colours of the early flowers Are tired passive and now forgotten       Michael Walter Rennie (1925)      

First of all let me apologise for the title of this poem My idea had been germinating for a while but I did not have a title for this work I wandered around the pleasant town of Devizes trying to think of one But it was not until I was standing next to the Victorian…

My grandfather had been a collector of all things oriental and had housed his collections in his sprawling white mansion   He had kept a detailed diary about his acquisitions which helped greatly when he died some twenty years ago   But there was no mention of The Chinese Parlour   It was as if…

On the first day of July my only sister died from a disease of the lungs and my poor father who was beside himself with grief soon  moved  her crimson piano in the eighth room at the top of the house I say that she was my sister but there was no similarity in our…

I recently enjoyed some days in a coastal town Studying time and looking for books The weather was quite warm so I explored The white dust paths from east to west This inhibited my time in the towns bookshops Which were often closed when I paid them a visit But I did find two books…

I could be anywhere in the world as I am much travelled But I find myself in a small room in Deal Watching the dawn break over the sea Its canvas is illuminated but it still retains the velvet darkness of the night I have been reading The Drifters by James A Michener as I have done…

It was one of those late May days when blue warm skies are expected but do not arrive and winters dour sister stares one blankly in the face   In the background my television was telling me that a serial killer had struck again and had killed another serial killer who had in turn been…

Today when browsing in a book shop I found a book of poems published late in 1963 which also contained a short letter from the poet The letter was written on the Boxing Day of that year It is a rather benign but friendly letter to a friend which notes that due to late publication…