Stuart Miller-Osborne

The tropical air had covered the city for over a month. It was not a condition that anyone celebrated. Although lightly attired in contrast to the severe winters, people had began to grow tired. Whilst the air was warm it was also very moist and each day was interrupted by showers often quite severe. In […]

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They do not enter the field but are joined at the tail before they commence their final journey     Neither the cat or the snake can enter paradise as they did not weep at the death of Buddha

As the lost moth hovered clinging to its final day it saw as it died in the light of a wind lined sun a man in a velvet suit catch the night train he travelled as always with the hum wires and ate of white food watching the lead castles silent in their icy loneliness. […]

The troubled dawn had drawn its veil on the day as a child smoothed the silks of eternity. it was his journey she knew through the softness of her future years.   Francis Thompson died at dawn on November 13 1907. This poem imagines one of the children (now grown) he composed poems about, standing […]

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The mist sails Turn to stone When the tide Meets the road     (Hebrew – The End of the Road)

As my vanity penetrates the colours will change pine needles will be found in the meadows of mountains and the sound of horses on cobbles will seem louder than the voices of small dogs tormented by cats Busy marmots will feast on the flower-heads and sleep on my bed as I search foolishly for their […]

With a sense of wonder I consider the joy musk That intoxicates the assassin In the remoteness of his departure.

In the cafeteria of the museum my fellow travellers imagined the ghost of the   white ship stranded     only I noticed the elegant tide     The German Windjammer Herzogin Cecilie was beached at Starhole Bay in South Devon during the summer of 1936. She remained there for over two years before she […]