“Sometimes, one wants a home to be as cozy as that, and preferably situated on the highest top of them all” Gun Roswell
Red, yellow, any other colour, or maybe even painted black
The choices for living, really do not lack
Going around and around, never once looking back
As one, after the other, is so much better, than the last
But, for only one week at the time
Spending, my vacation, nearly, on a dime
Even the weather, is ever so fine
“Fall is here, and so, as the name says, the leaves will a fall…. every which way!” Gun Roswell
The 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
“There is always something more interesting on the other side of the street” Gun Roswell
The red bench totally beckoned for the traveler to take a step across the street and make themselves a seat out of the hand carved reddish beat, but yeah it was totally screaming while beaming there, waiting for someone to take the step, closer to it, take a load off, and for a while sit, a perfect fit, for anyone appreciative of a bright and happy colour, spreading the aura all around of cheer, and those having taken the seat even for a while will most certainly leer long after the fact.
There is plenty to do, in the shade on a warm day, sitting under the cooling tree, sipping, on some ice tea.” Gun Roswell
Under the palm tree
Down by the sea
My sweetheart and I
Are…
Enjoying some tea
“Any seat is a good one in the midst of all the heat to find just for a brief of a respite” Gun Roswell
A single seat?
Or one designed for two?
In this heat!
Who would ever want to be glued
To someone else’s skin
With clothes this thin???
“Sometimes, it’s nice, to simply hang around the yard, sit under the apple tree and observe nature” Gun Roswell
A seat so close
You can surely get a doze
Of the fragrancy of the tree
Filled with greenest of leaves
And fully blooming white flowers
Which might just have the power
To turn the gloom in to a boom
And bring forth the time of spring
And make this day of Monday
So much better than any other day!
Leaves of summer
Now leaves of fall
In colourful schemes
Or so it seems
For not too long
Will they go strong
Onto the ground
Their way will be found
And with the groundskeeper’s rake
Into a tall mound
Eventually transforming
Slowly metamorphosing
Catching sleep
Oh so very deep
Through the white winter
Not even a splinter
Can be found
But slowly when Spring time
They come a live
And fill the trees
With all new leaves
“It is, a different kind of fun, hanging there, under, the bright sun, but then again, I don’t like to run”
Gun Roswell
The warm winds, gently, heaved, above me, in the tall palm tree leaves
As I laid under there, in the dark shadows, looking up, only to see
The sunshine, now curiously peeking, as if for something, it had to seek
Or then it was just me, being, once again, that one special kind of a geek
As I was conjuring up, all kinds of scenarios, where the very sun, was a being
From another world, with an agenda, and some sort of a ransom, and then chasing
All us, lowly humans, here, on the planet Earth and because of just that, making
Us, to go to permanent hiding, from those ever vigilant and ever searching
Rays so brightly lit, it was becoming more and more difficult, in the shadows to fit
But, for me, the gentle, caring and soft cover, of the tall and ever green
Palm of a tree, provided all the cool shelter, I could possibly ever need
When the nature has shed
Summer’s green
The colours of red
Is all that is seen
Leaves and berries
Even the cherries
Shining brightly
So tread lightly
When stepping into nature
They are motorized
Some may even tantalize
All vehicles great and small
Some faster, some crawl
Dented or ship shape
You cannot escape
Stopping and glaring
With nostrils flaring
“I want one!”
