Gone fishing or sailing, that is the question, right?

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“Nothing like the cool and calming seas, in the early morning breeze“ Gun Roswell

Gone fishing or sailing, that is the question, right?

When that special kind of occasion sometimes happens to rise
Which makes you totally want to jump up and down, holler and add a big smile
You know what is going to happen once you hop on the bus
Taking you out there, where, there is never, any kind of rush
Where the open air and the calming of the blue seas, forever meet
Just an open road ahead, without any kind of lanes on the streets
The harbour soon visible, and all kinds of vessels are totally feasible
To take a tour around the small side of the world, into it hurled
With a small boat of fishing gear filled up to the hilt, no, it won’t tilt
Or a large luxury type of thing, with sails and all that jazz kinda prim
But what ever you choose, know that with that choice you will never lose
As the most important thing of this day, is to relax and just sway
In unison to those lulling and calming waves, in an uplifting way
So, take a hike, out there, in the open where, no one will stare
At the outfit, you simply overlooked, for this gig, was just that big
Gone fishing, gone sailing, it’s all just in your own kind of mindset
And if you have a spare day to spend, then maybe either sail to the worlds end
Or then, make a small fishing trip out there today, and for a big haul prey
Then the next day, you can take a load off, at that grand type of a yacht
What ever the game plan, don’t just on the pier there aimlessly stand!
But haul your butt to the nearest boat, and make yourself a good day out!

First Snow, has landed

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“It was inevitable, after all, certainly, this late in the fall, as it always, snows here, in the winter” Gun Roswell

First Snow, has landed

In the hours, of the very early morning, the window view, in front, gently opening
To a perfect scenery, not really seen, not at least, since the last remnants, of wintery
Feeling had disappeared, during the early months, at the start, of the new year

The first, of the winters snow, had finally, and, during the dark night, landed
All over the previously grey and totally dull ground, its large wings spread grandly
And into, a crisp, and ever so clean looking, fluffy white blanket, it softly covered

Watching now, from the warmth and comfortable cozy inside, it looked really nice
But knowing full well, it would be, really cold and freezing, with some slippery ice
Then, returning back to bed, and sleep past the day, seemed totally sound advice

Alas, the best option still to handle, the sudden, but not unexpected change in the weather
Was quite simple and that of staying put, sitting down by the window, in a warm sweater
Then, enjoy the gorgeous scenery, as courteously provided, in technicolor by Mother Nature

Another day, out there on the seaside, maybe, even sailing

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“The seaside beckons, each and every day, so getting going, even if I cannot for long stay” Gun Roswell

Another day, out there on the seaside, maybe, even sailing

When the internal clock, clearly indicates, it is that time, for all else, to stop
With all this on going hassle and utter buzz around me, of the daily kind of blocks
And then realising, what I really ought to be doing, and stop my cheeks chewing
I should be out there instead, by those inviting and always ever so enticing docks
And if possible, finding myself, a nice little dingy of a boat, that kind of sort
Then row, row, row myself, out towards there, to the mighty and open wide, unknown

As it happens, and I am all alone out there, in the coolest of blues stratosphere
What ever happens next, really do not give much of a care, as from now on from here
I just want to take my leave from it all, and at least, for a short while, disappear
Let myself some time to do absolutely nothing, but totally to the surround moment sink
Alas, do not fear, I will be back to annoy you all, before you can say with a swear:
“Now, why don’t ya, getta hell outa here, before this shit hits your hair!”

Another cup of coffee, please

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“There is always room, for one more cup, of coffee, no matter how full the tummy or what the hour of the day. Coffee.” Gun Roswell

Another cup of coffee, please

In the early morning hours, even before, the scheduled shover
Coffee, needed, in a large cup at that on the dot, and steaming hot

At lunch time, when feeling tired after a meal large, and not doing too fine
Coffee, please, double at that, only black, because I need to stay, alert stat

The afternoon, when the so called real coffee break is set, so fine
Alas, do not that let, to be a distraction of getting Coffee, any time

Pr-evning, the time between noon and evening, hauling my tired ass home
Ain’t nothin else, getting me off of this mess of a state, than, Coffee, a noun

Past dinner time, the relaxed set up, with family and friends to spend
A heavy duty plate of a meal consumed, and on the brew, you guessed it: Coffee!

Later, getting closer to night time, the tv babbling in corner, I am napping
But still, I would like to stay awake, for that movies sake, what else, but Coffee helps

Come night, and I should be sleeping relaxed and sound, getting unwound
Alas, I am wide awake, alert, nothing fake, and one thing comes to mind: Coffee
Yes, she’s got me hooked good, and hey, I know I really shouldn’t, but one cup won’t hurt?
So, one more cup of, Coffee!

A Mundane Monday kind of Weather

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“The weather is always at its worst, on Mondays, oh how I don’t like Mondays“ Gun Roswell

A Mundane Monday kind of Weather

The green of the soggy ground, soon another kind of cover found
As the soft white of the snow, today, made its early and neat bow
The Monday kind of grey, soon turned to a ride in an old school sleigh
With odd sounds filling the airs, in the form of some kind of cheers
This day of mundane, was turning out to be, a very special type of day
And maybe, just maybe, that is thanks, to the now growing banks
Of this cold and white powder of substance, all over and everywhere
But not saying this out of despair, even if it really, is not that rare
To have all that snow, all over the floors, at this time of year, so near
To the favourite of all seasons, and that being the most and only reason
Putting up, with all this huff and puff of the white, now making the outside
Picturesque, no less than it was a few moments ago, or even yesterday
When the whole world was covered, in total non fashion kind of grey
So, welcome oh dear snow, hope you will bring so much fun in tow
But remember to melt away, as soon, as the winter’s sun hits play!

Happy Independence Day Finland!

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I tried to learn the Finnish language, which is really, really, really hard, and I realized that if I want to really learn it, I just need to figure out the swear words first, because those, are totally effective” Gun Roswell

Image result for finland

Our Land (national anthem)

Oh Our Land Finland Fatherland
Echo Loudly Golden Word
No Valley No Hill
No Water Shore More Dear
Than This Northern Homeland
This Precious Land Of Our Fathers
No Valley No Hill
No Water Shore More Dear
Than This Northern Homeland
This Precious Land Of Our Fathers
One Day From Your Bud
You Will Bloom
From Our Love Shall Rise
Your Hope Glorious Joy
And Once Your Song Fatherland
Higher Still Will Ring
From Our Love Shall Rise
Your Hope Glorious Joy
And Once Your Song Fatherland
Higher Still Will Ring

Independence

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“It’s great to be independent, either for just my own sake or then, living in a country which is, just that” Gun Roswell

Independence

A good feeling, in the back of your very pocket to have
Making your own decisions, thinking for yourself, alas
That kind of position, does not really, come so easily
For yourself, you had to prove your parents most likely
That you could do it without much fighting, or then again
You may have had to push your way through ignorance
Pettiness and all that kind of jazz, to be at the very point
And that was smart, as for the country, which you live in
On this very fine day, those before you, had to prove their
Very worth, while dredging in the dirt, in arms and poor
Conditions no less, most of them refusing to ever confess
To those who would take away their freedom and even lives
Some of them dying in the process, without ever seeing
What they managed to achieve, but on this day we can leave
All doubts outside and when we step into the unknown wide
The in person thing we can never, be taken for granted
Is that one so simple sounding word, of independence

Sunshine Cat

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“The sun was shining as per usual, reflecting warmth, over the tops” Gun Roswell

Sunshine Cat

The tiny cat, in the warming sunshine sat
Without even wearing, one simple kind of hat
Alas
That is really not exactly the real catch
Of this tiny of a tale of the sunshine cat

The point being, it is always so completely warm
Especially, after that cold and rainy storm
As a fact
That is why the cat, decided on that spot
To sit and fully the rays in soak, on that dot

So leave it to the furry feline kinds of friends
To find the best places themselves to mend
A cat
In the sunshine, simply, enjoying the sunshine
And in all of our own minds, that is what we too want

Autumn morning in Suburbia

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“It’s too early and way too dark and I cannot see much of anything! So, guess it must be, a November morning!“ Gun Roswell

Autumn morning in Suburbia

Very early, in the morning hours, after, a very quick shower
Looking outside, my window, and here, is what I do know:

It’s the very month of November now, the year gone by, so very fast
I hardly had the time, to really look around, and then it was already past
The moment, and already, the new year soon knocking, at my door
And I had not even bought, any kind of presents, from the store
Because the tradition demanded, that of a celebration, at the turning
Of a new leaf of this so called life, we are supposed to have been living
But, as I turn to take a good look outside, and the similar view I see
Each day, seemingly the same, all year round, except now, it is less green
I know the clock is ticking, and slowly but surely each day, is changing
The view now so familiar to me, but, soon will turn to something completely
Different, and then again, I will be here no more, to watch all the seasons
As they continue their ever lasting rotation, outside this same window
The circle of life some say, and hey, that’s just fine, but then one day
I would really like to stop the time, and take a really good look, anyway

The lighthouse keeper

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“Life, in a lighthouse, can be, mostly, a louse, but only, if you let it” Gun Roswell

The lighthouse keeper

The dreary lighthouse, with its grumpy kind of keeper, solemn and all alone
The only function, for this, keeper, is to make sure, the blinking lights are on
Climbing, each and every single night, up the tall stairs, in a blight
As keeping on, the ever-shining beacon, is an ongoing arduous fight
No matter the weather, no matter the time of year, the task always there
Waiting, each evening, for the keeper to stay alert, while getting upstairs
After all, the safety, of so many ships, passing by, is so high
And completely dependent, on this one and only keeper, to have in mind
Never resting, always alert, even if the feeling of a somewhat jerk
But the light must be kept burning, no matter what else in the world is churning
Certainly, not a task, for any kind of adventurer or even a thrill seeker
As this is the lonesome job, of this lonely and sometimes angry lighthouse keeper