Stuart Miller-Osborne

The days and the weeks are beginning To fall into each other It is typical winter But I have survived   Even though I no longer breathe I refuse to breathe in the frozen air As it brings me so much sorrow This has been a simple decision   When I look out to sea…

I am so happy with my pieces of granite For it is a wonderful stone Grey and rough but as hard as iron It possesses an inner beauty That can be seen and gently touched Without any guilt and with the approval of God

When I was very small my parents took me on a trip on The Far Tottering and Oyster Creek Branch Railway in Battersea Park I do not remember much about the day although I remember enjoying the festive atmosphere But then six months after our visit my family moved to Africa As Dad was something…

I have a cousin in Germany Who has the unusual name Of Lotus Weiser Wep   I have only met her once But we correspond frequently   My cousin is impossibly beautiful Although she considers herself quite plain   Later this year when the restrictions lift We are planning to travel to South East Asia…

The Winter Heron waits patiently For the warmer winds to arrive But the silent snow has to pass Before the Brilliant Star Unveils the silk shallow paths      

I quite often moon at robins As I do not care for Christmas And do not wish to receive presents   Mooning at Hammersmith Bridge Each morning at about seven My wife moons at Hammersmith Bridge I am not sure why she does this But am told that one of her ancestors Designed this beautiful…

jimmy jago jumped from the deep dover cliffs as the sea was no longer beautiful and the special light had dimmed  

I have seen her occasionally on the Circle Line trains With her head bowed as if she was weeping It is said that she was jilted by her first and only love Whilst travelling between Paddington and Notting Hill Gate And has waited for him ever since on this never ending line      …

I have pink-washed my house So it stands out in this street Of dour and dirty dwellings Bright amongst the dull facades That so mar this pretty little coastal town   I am an artist a poet and an author Of licentious books much read Nobody speaks to me in the street anymore But I…

She posed quite naked on her piano Or so I am told by my bright-eyed friends But as I have been blind for many years I just listen to the sweetness of her songs For I have no interest now in the visual world     Captain Cat