“The life on the island is peaceful at best of times, when the tourists are gone, as is the storm, until next time then, I guess?” Gun Roswell
Peaceful and silent
On this solitary island
Like a rough uncut diamond
Where blue meets blue
In the waters and skies hue
There is really not much to do
Maybe, just maybe
This is really good for you
Yes, this is my land
Here is were I stand
Just because, I can
“The little cottage that could, standing tall in the middle of nowhere, never small, but big at heart, daring in weather of all, for years, millennia perhaps, who knows.” Gun Roswell
A house sits on the barren island
Waiting for its summer friends
Exited, exhilarated, hoping, that
Soon, they’ll be arriving, from the mainland
On the look out through the lens
Many a lonely days was spent
Eternal fire always burning
For the long awaited to be returning
Rejoicing of the pending arrival
Impatience its only ally
Evening turning to morning
Now, the friend are returning
Damned be all fear
Summer, is finally here
“There is total light in the darkness, because of these tall statues of givers of light.” Gun Roswell
The lighthouse, the giver of so much light
It’s almost a delight
As luminous it will be, during the night
It’s permanent duty without any strife
Will defend though, with a punch and a fight
“Sometimes, one simply wants some peace and quiet, far away from people and the daily grind, and preferably, in the middle of the ocean an island so pretty with everything in it, but by the shore’s of the capital city, close to it all, the hustle and bustle of the big city and people and all, because who wants to be alone, really?” Gun Roswell
A cottage on an island
Preferably on the highland
Still near or in the city
No running water nor electricity
Not another soul in sight
If you dare to enter
You will soon be in plight
Because the center
Of each Finns existence
Is the calculated distance
From their neighbour
Preferably as far as the equator
“After the storm has passed, the air is very clean, the waters are calm and well, guess there is some cleaning to be done out on the streets?” Gun Roswell
After the storm
Everything is calm
Surrounded by silence
When roaming the island
Not a soul in sight
A sole bird in flight
The scent of nature
The intoxicating mixture
Enhanced by rain
Hard to restrain
My rejoicement
“Thar be many fishies in the water out dar!” Gun Roswell
The evening filled
With colourful lights
Cool wind chilled
Time to head inside
The Aquarium a choice
Listening to sealife’s voice
Sharks swimming in tanks
Where a ship had sank
Luminescent jellyfish
But not served as a dish
Enjoying the night life
Of this little town in south
“Something about this, time of the year, this, fall, autumn, whatever it’s called, it’s so, gorgeous!” Gun Roswell
The sun was beckoning
Behind the closed window shades
The outside warm and welcoming
Blue skies and colours splayed
On the tableau drawn by nature
Quite the creator
Of beauty and awe
Almost dropped my jaw
When I stepped outside
And stared at the scene in front of me with pride
“It’s a colour of shock, perhaps, but it’s also very pretty, so why not wear it?!” Gun Roswell
The colour pink
It’s more than just ink
It may be a chosen lifestyle
Or just some clothes in a pile
Don’t put me on a file
Just because for a while
I chose to wear the colour
Stay out late and holler
Wearing a short skirt
A well earned perk
Naturally, all in pink
And very much in sync
The illusion complete
To everyone send this tweet
“She is off her rocker
Oh what a shocker”
And with that, my job here is done!
And I had so much fun!
“it’s just a month, nothing more, the turning of the year, the seasonal change, weather more likely, so just, deal with it?” Gun Roswell
Little if no sunlight
Feeling the urge of flight
Looking through windows
Outside tall shadows
Cold weather gracing us
With minus degrees Celsius
Colours quickly a fading
The nature slowly graying
October or sobbtober
Surely nothing to rock over
You followed September
Surely, a month to remember
But, as life always has a twist
Therefore I must insist
This time, this October
Was truly a rocktober
With sunshine in abundance
And colours of substance
So far nothing to complain about
No time for doubt or pout
Both spirit and camera uplifted
With feelings of being gifted
With a beautiful October
“It’s history, but in the here and now.” Gun Roswell
The colours
Of the old town
Will turn
An upside frown
Into a huge smile
When staying a while
In the historic city
Of Porvoo
Listen to the poll
And take little stroll
Pick up a doll
And do a little dance
Take a chance
On the wide expanse
Of the historic streets
Of Porvoo
Rantings Of A Third Kind 