The raindrops the window

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“Rain, rain and some more rain, guess it is really fine in the end” Gun Roswell 

The raindrops the window

The rain leaves it’s calling card on the windows, marking the surface but luckily not permanent but for at least a moment the markers will stay there, for the simple purpose of admiration with the good kind of sensations there to be found.

And so, observing those tiny droplets getting stuck on the tough glass, forming all kinds of patterns, some of them just splatters really, but still, they have a way in capturing the attention just the same, and as long as they remain, they will the onlooker entertain.

The many faces of the moon

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“The moon has many faces, even if it may just show the one to us“ Gun Roswell

The many faces of the moon

The shiniest of balls coming out at night

After winning against the sun its eternal fight

Hanging there on the spot regular as the work of the clock

The moon may be half or less its size, or full which is nice

The way printed onto sky, looking like a permanent smile

Depending naturally on the angle of the current viewer

But see, turn your head just a bit, and there it is!

The wide big grin of the moon – ding ding!

Stuck in a rut 

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“On the rocks, in a rut, bummed out, a favourite child has many names as has this particular state“ Gun Roswell

Stuck in a rut 

Sometimes it’s good to be stuck in a rut. Simply calm down and wait for a while, the tide will soon enough rise and let you get unstuck.

But if it seems impossible of a thing to do, then perhaps you really need to think it through. Maybe the state or place isn’t the problem at all, rather the set of mind, trying the progress to stall.

And so, thinking of a new strategy, a new way of life, might just be smart enough, and perhaps sooner or later, you will be able to clear the moorings and move, forward.

Standing small or tall?

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“The light its only purpose and only at night, but still this small, tall structure, is so much more“ Gun Roswell

Standing small or tall?

The light of it never failing

Even if at daylight there is really no telling

It’s a simple construct made out of concrete

Something of an eye sore perhaps

But once the day is over and night falls

Time around everyone starts slowly to stall

This structure of sorts comes alive

Shining its light to those at sea forever

Whether on their best path or peril

Never failing to guide them home

This sometimes worshipped light giver of the lore

Jump, they said

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“Three is something to be admired about those who dare to dive in without looking – fools they be! Perfect nutters I say!“ Gun Roswell

Jump, they said

They told me to jump

To take the leap of faith

I looked at it for a moment

Hesitated, oh so much

But, then I did

I made the jump

And look where it landed me in!

The perfect puddle

The messy gory muddy puddle

The one perfect analogy

Of life it self

And so here a stand

Being totally and utterly stuck

No movement found

Whatsoever

HELP?
Please?

No?

Fine, I will try to move

To get unstuck

It’s just life, right?

Stripes and the Cat

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“The ideal of calm exists in a sitting cat, but not for long, not when you turn your back!” Gun Roswell

Stripes and the Cat

I am a tiger cat
Hear me roar!

My furry stripes
I am wearing proud
Sometimes picking a fight
‘Cause I like being loud

But when groomed and fed
And safely resting in bed
I am a cute little kitty
Without any hissy fitty

I am a soft kitty
Hear me purr

Suburban Sunrise 

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“No matter where you are, near or far, the sunrise is a sight for sore eyes” Gun Roswell

Suburban Sunrise 

The longer you stare
    Into the bright glare
    The red gets in control
    Devouring the sky whole

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The late night sunset (isn’t that when it happens?)

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“Sunset, that perfect cliché which exists, almost every single day?” Gun Roswell

The late night sunset (isn’t that when it happens?)

On my way high, high up
Ever higher
Closer to the sky
On a smooth elevator ride
Up to the 16th floor I fly

From this ocean view
Reserved for only a few
Enjoying the last rays of sun
The last of the sunsets
Of the month of… whenever

Red sky in the evening divine

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“The red is the colour of the magnificent sunset painted in the sky of the evening’s moment high” Gun Roswell 


Red sky in the evening divine

Fire engine red, someone in the watching crowd said, as we were all gathered for the spectacle of the evening displayed in front of us on the sandy shores, and certainly never a bore was this setting told on a lore, as the sun with a loud roar dropped into the deep waters from the sky above.

It was told in a story once in the past and the glory of the moon would create such a blast at least for the duration of the night to last hurling the drowning star deep into the waters far to cool down for a moment until once again in the morning it would rise its crowning head from the watery bed.

The rays curling up slowly but surely until reaching the highest peak in the bluest of skies then warming us dwellers again with the bright white light for a while until the night once again arrived and the moon would overpower the sun, thus completing the circle of routine once again neither of them really winning the game.

But that is just fine as in the end, we truly need them both.

The Golden Moment

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“That golden moment, reflected, in the windows, in the afternoon light – looks like we live in the golden city!” Gun Roswell

The Golden Moment

The windows reflecting the light

As the afternoon’s sun is still bright

Colouring all the surfaces with gold hue

Completely irradiating the feeling of blue

A lyrical moment for the mundane grey

The feeling of dull quickly fading away

As the tall towers and the low windows

Make us believe in fairy tales and wonders

Our city now the golden one

Before the illusion comes undone

And we are back to the mundane vision

Of dull surfaces needing revision