Snow cover like sprinkled powder

“The snow fell upon the land, covering it all, with a white blanket, soft, but cold and well, guess that is all” Gun Roswell

Snow cover like sprinkled powder

The bluish hue when the night falls upon the land on the shores

The snow having softly made a landing, now covering it all

Not just the land though, but also the newly iced over waterfall

The sparkly waters only yesterday roaring with life

Now simply frozen by the temperatures plummeted over night

It’s a pretty sight though, no matter the cold

And for those, loving the winter activities, feeling bold 

Can get out there with their skis, skates and whatever else daring 

Because soon enough, it will get either too cold or too warm

To really enjoy the scenery and the soft and sparkling snow

So, getting up and out there, no matter if liking it or not

Just try to go with the flow and enjoy, well, the snow

Snow and the very Calm Seaside

“The snow has landed, literally and figuratively, even if this one here, resides on the sea” Gun Roswell

Snow and the very Calm Seaside

Oh the snow, the snow, the snow, it is everywhere!

No matter where your eyes land or you try to stare!

The glare of it all, when the sun is shining, which is rare, at least during the dark and long winter season hours, lasting for, well, the whole day!

There is no escape, as most of us Northeners now know, you know, from the snow?

Because wherever you just might go, for sure, there will be more snow there too.

As seen on TV, the planet in rather of a turmoil, because, of the, well oil?

So, try to enjoy the time, no matter how cold, wet or whatever other word you might think of, this seasonal cruelty, the Nature itself has directed towards us small humanoid types trying to play ball.

Then again, why not go to space? There is no ice there, right?

Red and then some yellow behind it?

“The rose pretty as can be, painted red as a fire engine, but hiding behind it, was something of a yellow, a fellow rose for sure“ Gun Roswell

Red and then some yellow behind it?

The roses are always pretty, even if having passed their prime time to be seen, whatever that just might mean, with a stem so tall, green and totally lean, they always make sure to be seen, no matter the venue they are set upon

No matter the colour of the petal, the flowery part, the one which is the supposed smart, even if the stem has its thorns, which if pricked, will make a human bleed, and so perhaps the luscious thick part isn’t the one to be afraid of

Star Wars the Clone Wars, the Bad Batch, the Mandalorian, the Book of Boba Fett FanFiction – new stories posted on ao3 and fanfic.net – December 2022

Gun Roswell's avatarGun Roswell

I have uploaded several stories of fan fiction onArchive of Our Own(AO3)andFanFiction.netof the adventures ofThe Bad Batch, Star Wars The Clone Wars, The Mandalorian and The Book of Boba Fett!

These tales follow completely original story lines diverging from theStar Warscanon. All of them being pure fan fiction akaFanon.Naturally! Still paying homage to the original series.

Go check them out here on AO3:
In the heat of the Battle
Recovery
Happily ever after?
Toxic
My Knife is bigger than Yours
Tension
Opposites Attract

Or, on FanFiction.net:
TCW – In the heat of the Battle
TCW – Recovery – (BACARA NEYO)
TCW – Happily ever after? (BACARANEYO)
TBB – Toxic (CrosshairHunter)
TBB – My Knife is bigger than Yours – (WRECKERHUNTER)
TBB – TCW – Tension (ECHOREX)
TBB – Opposites…

View original post 86 more words

Not enough Coffee!!!

“There is always room for more, more coffee that is!“ Gun Roswell 

Not enough Coffee!!!

The time of the day, when you simply want your big fat head to rest lay, alas the time is not really on your side, the reasons plenty to keep your eyes open and wide, but not even a smile emerges, as the urge to sleep, is too dire, and not even the house on fire, would get you moving.

So, the choice is obvious, or rather the cure, as this sleepy state,, really is a human ailment, something rather easily to be cured, as rest assured, if you get a hold of the strongest, darkest of liquids, known to human kind, the trust in me, you soon will feel, simply fine.

As this, sustenance, is totally divine, sent from the gods, up above (or wherever they just might be, looking down?) the cup filled to the hilt, then another and perhaps a third, not too soon, but neither too late to consume, the caffeine kicking in and then, all you can do is to dance and sing, and perhaps afterwards, do whatever thing needed to be done. 

Coffee, never too much of the stuff.

Colours of the Season

“They might not be as green as they once were, but those colours, albeit faded, are still, luminous“ Gun Roswell

Colours of the Season

On the ground they lay, in somewhat of a disarray, still, not willing to give up, not just yet, even if the colours of summer, having turned to fall, had faded, soon to be incorporated to the awaiting dirt in the shade of the dullest of greys.

But, no matter the outcome might just be for them all, no matter the fate, these, faded colourful tiny beings seemed to be hanging on for a moment longer, making the onlookers heart sing, simply because the resilient fight they are putting on, staying strong, no matter the odds.

Sunday for the heal

“Always take a load off, whenever Sunday comes along”

Sunday for the heal

The sunny days of Sunday may have been gone with the change of the seasons, but there is no reason to not to enjoy the day, with a seat on the outside or if too cold, simply by the window, to enjoy the views of nothingness and peace, as on the day of sun, it is time for non fun, more of the relaxation of any kind, simply just be, to reflect on the past week, for you see, tomorrow a new day rises, the dreaded Monday.

The cat in their spot

“The cats always choose their places in those spaces given to them, and then it will be their spot and no one else’s” Gun Roswell

The cat in their spot

The cat in a chair sat, just because it was apt to do so

For hours on end, would they time on the chair spend

Watching and observing all those passing by, like a spy

Perhaps true, and maybe even part of some conspiracy

A plot device sent out here to destroy the human kind?

Well, what ever the cat’s purpose might just be

It was not clear to those passing as usually 

A loud purr could be heard from the very source

As those who dared to pet the sitting cat on the spot

Were soon rewarded with an affectionate nod

So, whatever you might think of this very cat

Choosing their very own place in this space we share

The street, the neighbourhood, the planet fair

Perhaps even an alien invader but, then again

Who could easily resist a soft purr and a fluffy figure?

Next time, when getting all around in the hood
Keep an eye open for that one cat you should

As befriending them might just be the best thing

Even if it was just an ordinary common place being

The breaking waves

“The waters are calm today, only gently breaking against the rocky shores, like being no great chore at all” Gun Roswell

The breaking waves

The waters edge, the place where the waves and the land meet, the shores of beyond the rocky terrain, where few feet have trudged, because getting there is hard and difficult, often impossible.

But those who dare, can not stand and stare, after having reached, the sandy beach, and then in awe admire of their perfect score, as the views are not short of magnificent, but time there watching, observing spent short, as the storm will soon be upon and the sandy shores travelled upon will be gone, sunken by the roaring waves to the beyond.

Something which remains

“There is always something which survives the harshness of changing seasons” Gun Roswell

Something which remains

The nature, something wild and untamed

Even if nothing remains the same, when seasons change

Somethings, will never yield

To the yoke of weather, no matter how extreme

Keeping on, hanging there for dear life

Surviving, no matter what just might be the strife

The pests of nature as some might call them

But in the end, it does not really matter 

These survivors of the harsh, will become so much better

Each and every passing season

Some say, this might just be even treason

From Mother Nature trying to prove being better

But humans do not understand

What the real struggle really is all about

As they are the ones pushing forward

Destroying all that which does not seem smart

Then again, who are they to decide

Because in the end, nature will always triumph

Long after the last human has disappeared

The weeds as they were once called

Have made their stance at the waters edge

Still surviving, even thriving 

In the summers warmth and winters cold