Stuart Miller-Osborne

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 […]

From his high office An ace trader named Al Looked at the wet junction Where the paradise house one stood These were his asphalt memories. In his neon cabin A security guard named Chris Checked the lottery results He never bought a ticket But knew all his numbers He liked the pain. In the tangled […]

From this tangled tangled skew you’ll find how a thread will wind and wind still if patient you remain it will come to shape again.   This was a short poem by an anonymous poet discovered in an 1877 Children’s Treasury annual purchased in Marlborough in July 2011. I have added a title and made […]

When Alice, Alice and Alice travelled to the Redwater they always took the agile route past the soda stall Each had a Moroccan appearance even though they had been born on the Manchester Road morocco was their mothers favoured country They were all in fine health until the sixteenth of each month when they hovered […]