Seasonal Cheer

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“Greetings to one and all, holiday and seasonal cheer in tow” Gun Roswell

When this season is upon us once again with the realest of feel
And it is the time when the home becomes filled with smells and kind of a cheer
Maybe even catch a glimpse of the grumpiest of neighbours with leer
It is the time with colours and lights so bright, the X-mas Eve is sure to be near

The colours and lights of green and red
Filling each corner of this small homestead
No time for sleep, just jump out of bed
And get out now the holiday spirits to spread

But if you are not feeling this thing at all
Never, mind, not everyone can have it all
Just try to be cool and then, just stand tall
And maybe, for a beer, head out to the nearest mall

Frosty is the Snowman!

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It’s made out of snow, but has a nose and a bow, or a scarf, guess depending on the person having made the snowman up. Freezing cold outside, alas, never too cold for the bold snowman, standing there, in the yard.” Gun Roswell 

xmas-snowman


Frosty the Snowman
Delivering the ultimate plan
For the holiday fan
From here to Milan
Doing the holiday can-can
Just because, he can

Elves and Angels on the Shelf

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“Those mythical figures adorning our homes and perhaps lives, saviours and even spies? Alas, looking rather nice, at least, when staying on them shelves or wherever else they just might dwell.” Gun Roswell

xmas-old-fashioned


Angels and elves,
Where do they dwell?
Filling the shelves perhaps
Putting on spells on us
Ringing the holiday bells maybe
Letting us know not to be lated
Of the seasonal celebrations

And so,
All is now well again

Wintery Window View

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“The nightly view from the window, with the reflected hues of the lights, shining through the darkness, against the snow and star lit skies“ Gun Roswell

The night upon, no sleep for the weary, so what to do while trying to stay strong? 

Perhaps take a peek through the closed curtains, maybe there is something new?

Gasp! Sigh. What the F..ye?

Does my own eyes lie?

All that snow!

Oh boy, and a loud Doh!

Too much, of anything, good or bad is not really a thing of which a song would be proper of to sing.

Even with the holiday season approaching fast, this, this thing, the white fluffy stuff…

It’s way too much!
At least at this time of year, and I fear, it will stay there for a moment too long.

And then, the spring months are upon and still, the snow and cold there remain.

Like the naughty and dirty large stain.

And whom of this all can we blame?

Ourselves I guess, for causing this overall change.

Snow Ahoy!

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“So, it’s winter time again huh?” Gun Roswell


winter-tale-4

Down the Hill
Snowfall
Snow Mummies
Lights in the Window 

Greece’s Waters

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“There are plenty of places to dive, to swim or even row, in Greece, in a small cove” Gun Roswell

Clear blue, endless, cloudless skies, and cool, refreshing blue waters
Suitable, for us lowly peasants, and even, for the kings daughters

The ancient, mighty monuments, surrounded, by the crystals glittering
The many images of the castles, forts and other similar types, on the surface reflecting

Waterfalls, existing in a garden or even, carved by nature
A calming effect, is just the same, no matter which way you venture

When the night slowly falls, and the time, totally stalls
The birds are taking their final flight, before tucking in, for the darkening night

Here I am, sitting, contemplating, for a moment, by the turquoise pool
Now, slowly changing, into deep dark colours, by the eerie shadows

Playing, on the surface, finally daring in, for a nightly dive, in the liquid space
Refreshing, rejuvenating, before finally, falling, into deep sleep in this heavenly place

It’s Tuesday… only Tuesday?

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“Sometimes it’s just a slow week is all, but then, it’s suddenly Sunday?” Gun Roswell


The days come along one by one (usually the way they do)
It’s almost like singing a song (verse by verse moving along)
Today it’s Tuesday, when only yesterday it was Sunday (that’s how I recall it)
And now, it’s getting late, no matter how I hesitate, tomorrow will be here, I can feel it near (What do you know: It’s Wednesday and midweek, what a geek!)

Guess I need to stop worrying about Mondays anyway (Oh, did you worry before? Did not know that…)
Since the days keep on changing without my aid (Yeah, need a time machine for that!)
Why worry about some day, when there is always the next day (True, do like the Spanish do, manana!)
So, on this day of …ahem, Tuesday, I swear, not to worry about another damned day!!! (Liar! You know this promise or what ever is as good as the up and down going fever! You will never keep it, trust me, I know shit!)

Bring it on Tuesday, Wednesday and even Friday (Don’t forget Monday and something else!)
Every day, from this day on is my day (note to writer, how many times can you get away with the word “day”?)
I will start appreciating the here and now (Yeah, really! Like to see that)
And then, if not, nobody have a cow! (We already did! It’s there in the backyard!)

Blue is a Moment

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“It’s okay to be blue, at least on Mondays, in November.” Gun Roswell

Sky, water and horizon
Even the distant island
Cannot resist the moment
The moment of blue

The sun, is setting…

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“From the busy streets, towards the calm beach, that is the goal in life” Gun Roswell


I see the image in my very mind, it’s something unique, someplace to unwind
The colours changing now, from green to a coolest blue, some kind of hue
But then, like a sharpened photograph, everything is in my grasp.
The shining sun, rising high above, the breeze so low, the pace so slow
The turquoise waters glimmering, I wish I could swim in them

I run as fast as I can, then on to the sandy beach I land
At this point I don’t care if it is a dream or someone’s bad joke or scheme
I shed my clothing, boots and all, and into to the soft waves I let myself fall
Getting carried away to the wide open seas, where nothing and no one else do I see
Only sounds made are those of seagulls, flying high above my skull

This is bliss, this is calm, this is what I seek, this is what I want
And then, I wake up, as the car beside me honks

“Move it of lose it bozo!” I hear

Yes, I am back in the noisy street I fear
Until next time, when I dare to dream
As life never really is what it seems

The journey begins…

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“The destination really isn’t as important as what happens on the journey to get there, the anticipation of what awaits ahead, the ever changing vistas and methods of travel, the people met along the way… It’s all part of the whole.” Gun Roswell


Flying across the skies
Waiting for the price
At the end of the station
A promised vacation

The journey taken
Was not a long one
Each morning awoken
To the rays of the sun

Surrounded by history
Shrouded in mystery
Time spent on the beach
Bliss at hands’ reach

Enjoying each day
Life a large buffet