Stuart Miller-Osborne

I ran through your brittle leaves and looked at the angel trails in the mourning sky Why do you burn these leaves and not scatter them as the season’s gift to me?   After Autumn Leaves by J E Millais  

A life size white horse dating from the 1960/70s can be seen in the yard of an antique establishment in Hungerford, West Berkshire. It has been there for some months, quietly weathering but this process of decay has raised some fundamental questions. 1 Now that you are gone will I only see the rough grasses…

Secular crocodiles Do not visit The Catholic Church  

Piers On the wall Opposite my bed There is a letter box And through this letter box I can see all the piers in Montenegro   Trains Felix Lane Waited for a train Which never came Each day was the same Nobody took the blame In Montenegro   Horses As the step mists Crept towards…

as the wind leaves danced on the icy road Captain Hawke discussed the construction of the winter months with a passing piano

the thin braided trees were shadowed by the pink blush of a brittle dawn in the reclining darkness a foundation boy removed a blue ribbon tied to a bush written in weathered ink was the name Virginia Stride the name of his sisters sister this was her dowry

Grange Farm    (Mrs Tomkins) Alfred, Alfred, Alfred ! Bring me the dusky day So I may place it With the other jams Grange Farm    (Thomas Little – Farmhand) I am frying an egg On the tin barn roof The chickens enjoy the view Grange Farm    (Alfred Tomkins – Owner of the Farm) We are often…

The brittle banners of this inglorious knight have blessed the accursed as he runs in the many pavilions of his glass self   1990  

WORK SLEEP TRAVEL WORK SLEEP TRAVEL WORK SLEEP TRAVEL HOW MUCH MORE CAN YOU TAKE ? BURN MARX AND PASS THE COFFEE CREATE ANARCHY THE PIDGEONS ARE READY   1968 (Revised 1976)

As we catch the moon safely in our branches they seek it with their hopeful nets not knowing the lies of the foul water   1971