“Sometimes, a cat simply needs a walk, but why waste them delicate paws as handbags have been invented!” Gun Roswell
“I keep my cat
In my handbag”
Said the old hag
And, with a snag
Lighting a fag
“It’s not a gag,
so just cut me some slack”
She quickly snapped
As she zigzagged
A price tag
Like a yellow flag
Flashing on her ragtag
And out of fashion coat
Stepping into a boat
Flinging in her large tote
The cat sprung out
And onto the float
In a few quick strokes
She rowed across the moat
“Autumn, is here and it’s pretty, but it’s also getting colder day by day, less of the sun to be seen, guess, this means, it’s time, for some sleep?” Gun Roswell
Early, before the sunrise, alas today, it wasn’t going to smile
The cloud covered, grey and dark in coloured, low hanging skies
Were preparing, for the upon coming time, that of the polar nights
“But, it was just summer!”
Someone prompted like it was a bummer
“Yeah, and soon we will have snow”
The other piled on quickly in the other ones tow
“Quit yammering about the weather you two,
Because soon, it will be too dark and too cold
To even dare to step out from the home old!”
The third ones comment, surely shut their mouths
But whether the weather, was the topic or not
This time of the year, was always, welcomed with a scoff
As slumbering into darkness, was no way to get off
The difference at this time, between night and day
Was hardly visible, to the beady eyes now slain
By the blurred visions, from too long indoors staying
Only the cloudy and grey skies outside remained
And even those ones, who would like to complain
Had to admit, that it was cozy, inside their own domains
After all, this was a yearly thing in stall
For all those small dwellers, up the far north
Pending their time, before the coming of
Some other type of seasonal weather
But that was a topic, after this time, of fall
“It’s hidden, it’s a secret, but, look carefully and you will find it… the secret path.” Gun Roswell
Find the secret path way
Through this world of grey
Where ever it may lay
All you need to do, is play
It may have been hidden
In plain sight
But if the bug, had already bitten
The adventure, already taken flight
With a backpack packed
Nothing will you lack
Make the coloured brick road
Your only goal
“There is colour in the colourless, just, take a good look and you’ll figure it out!” Gun Roswell
The faded colour
A reminder of the past
Many nuances to discover
Monochrome to last
Once a colourful picture
A photographer’s signature
Now, maybe a work of art
Or close to someones heart
“Fall is here, and so, as the name says, the leaves will a fall…. every which way!” Gun Roswell
Leaves have fallen on the ground
The sun hanging low in the horizon
The warm colours painting the trees
The warm red as far as eye can see
November’s day cool and crispy
The weather maybe a little misty
“The sky is falling, the sky has gone red! Run for your lives!… oh, it’s just, the sun setting! No worries then!” Gun Roswell
Yellow, orange, red
The colours bled
When the sun sets
There are no regrets
Of the night ahead
A new day is bread
And the sun sets
Again tomorrow
“Sometimes, one needs a little bit more colour in one’s life” Gun Roswell
Bright lights
Bright colours
Never night
Never duller
When life is
Such a bliss
And filled with
Neon colours
“All those pretty colours! Not really sure as to where to turn my head, fall, is so pretty!” Gun Roswell
Finally, weekend
Truly a godsend
A time to enjoy and relax
Lift your feet up and chillax
But, being my usual self
Could not just sit down
Grabbed the camera from the shelf
And ran down town
Sunlight on Saturday
Watching the shadows play
Colours of leaves in abundance
The birds and flies doing a dance
Sun warming the air
Not a time to despair
The cold and damp weather
Replaced by light and high pressure
“The moon boss, the moon! Well, yeah, it’s the middle of the night, right!?!” Gun Roswell
The expectance of storm and rain
Transformed into a beautiful play
The sunset beyond the treeline
Never looked so fine
The colours painted in the sky
Catering both mind and eye
A perfect ending for the day
I wish I had more time to stay
“It is the end, of Autumn foliage, what remains, is just a mirage?” Gun Roswell
Is this the end, my friend?
The cheery time turning to eerie?
The world around dying, scary?
Alas, not to worry!
It’s simply nature in change
Doing it’s thing to bring
Another seasonal bling
But in all white?
Winter you see
So all good and fine?
Rantings Of A Third Kind 