“Is it of alien origin?” Gun Roswell
Out of this world
An object of unknown origin
Maybe, quite possibly, a life form
Sparkling electricity, most likely, out of necessity
But, when I touched it, it went away
Oh, sparkling little life form, why did you not stay?
I was lucky enough to be sent an ARC for The Indie Writer’s Handbook by one of my favorite authors, David Wind. David has included a kind mention to this blog in his book, which is specifically aimed at Indies, hence the ARC.
“A great primer for new Indie authors (as well as ones who have been around and are wondering if they are doing everything they can to succeed). The easy, conversational style makes the fact that it is packed with information painless, the screenshot walk-thru’s of how to fill-out and accomplish various tasks online were a great idea – I’d definitely recommend!”
USA Today and WSJ Bestselling Indie Author Amy Vansant
David Wind is a Hybrid author with 40 books of fiction published both Traditionally and Independently. He is a member of the Authors Guild, The Mystery Writers of America, The Science Fiction and Fantasy…
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“It’s not always a sign of a saint” Gun Roswell
Halos on discount
I may be wearing a halo, at least some days when I am feeling low
Thinking of all the good deeds done in my past, but this feeling will not long last
I am sinking so fast, my crown of of a halo
Soon will be the only thing surviving the blast
But the waters soon will calm down
And on the surface floats, my well earned halo crown
“Mondays without colour, what a drag!” Gun Roswell
Mundane on a Monday
Busy Bee
A red open flower tempted
The busy bee to relent
It’s flight in the middle of the day
And onto the open petals lay
Gathering all the nectarine it can find
Before back into its hive it will fly
But dear bee
Beware of the honey trap
Set to lure you in fact
And if you don’t soon fly away
You will forever in this flower
Trapped, remain
“Hiding my other side, the dark side of me, always” Gun Roswell
Half of me seen
I like to hide, the other side, of me
The one, never, ever facing the sun
This side, has never been exposed
Never have been observed up close
And it will remain on the dark side
Until, the end of time
“It is harvest time, in the garden, and not just for us humans” Gun Roswell
Autumn Garden Bliss
Behind, the lush grown, hidden small size gates
A tiny, really old dwelling, the on looker baits
And, for the odd traveller, just passing by
To simply dare, to step, inside
For there is nothing more alluring, than the unknown and divine
The cottage, once, in screaming bright red painted
But now, mostly, the exterior’s inviting flash, is all faded
It is as quaint as the trimmings of the windows
But still standing strong, even after all the wind blows
And into the past, the history, it invites to explore
Guarded, by the tiniest of inanimate gnomes
Sitting there, in a solemn quiet and an orderly row
They seem smiling and totally life like
And, if you dare to misstep, then you will feel their spite
For they are the guardians of the cottage’s life
The trees, now filled with apples, oranges and berries
After all, it is that time, most of us cherish
The Autumn falling slowly, onto the waiting land
With all the colours so bright, you can hardly stand
Foliage, they dwellers say, and then, offer you a hand
It is now, near harvest time, for both the bees, birds and human kind
Every single living thing gathering their reward, knowing, they have scored
When their stomachs are filled with delicious nectar and food
From apples, oranges, berries, and all, who can really and honestly choose!
So step into the world of wonder, you really have nothing to lose!
“It is so blinding, I need shades” Gun Roswell
Blinding
Light, bright light!
Yet, so perfect and fine
All I want to do, is to bask, under it, all the time
But alas, blinding it is
Luckily, I got shades on me!
“Sea, sun and summer, nothing more do I need” Gun Roswell
Sea, sunshine in summer
Even on the cloudiest of days
I will not for long in a dismayed state stay
As I step outside into the calming beach
I am greeted by a cooling breeze
Nothing is more invigorating than the sea
Cool blues as far as my eyes can see
Even if I choose to just hang around
Take my place on the rocky ground
Or if I am feeling daring and adventurous
I can set sail to the open waves
In my small dingy of a boat with sails
I feel great, alive and most of all
I am spending the best of a summers time, at the seashore
And soon enough, even the sun cones out
Making this day too, perfect all around
“Summer endings are such sad things“ Gun Roswell
Last days of summer
Before, it, the season, of joy, of fun, of sun, really started
Started, in a big flash of light, and then, it was, already over
Over, as the end, of the very long, bright, summer days
Days, which I wished had lasted, so, so much longer
Longer, than the cold dreary days, of the dark winter, which in, my bones I feel
Feel, so sad, so bad, so not wanting, ever again, to go back
Back, to the so called everyday, grey normal
Normal, is not, what I want, but only for, these summer’s days, to be
Be, exist, live, love, in the everlasting, long, warm, lightened days
Days, so much longer, than the cooler blue lit nights
Nights, never dark, never long, never scary and never, ever cold
Cold, like everything else, which is not, of summer
Summer, oh my dear, you are, my one and only saviour, in good and bad
Bad, is only the time, when you are gone
Gone, well, at least, until, the new year, the next year
Year, when I hope, you will finally stay, for so much more longer
“Ride a mini cooper, the tiny four wheel vehicle and you never go back to a Volkswagen, or, what ever kind of car” Gun Roswell
Mini in blue with a flag on top
A Union Jack flag, painted, on the very top of her head
Two white ‘go’ stripes, adorning, the hood ahead
Her headlights, big, bright and very shiny things, and yes, oh so metallic
As I continue listing all these qualities, I am getting so, so ecstatic
Darkest of blue, is the shiny coat she wears
Why don’t you, just take a peek inside, if you dare
(I know you want to, go ahead, it’s alright, she won’t bite, well, maybe, just a nibble!)
Lot’s of room, in this small, little gal is packed
Four seats, even ample storage, and a motor, in the back
She truly is, a complete package, of beauty and smart
This tiny, and little, old school mini cooper, is a totally and utterly, lovable car
Rantings Of A Third Kind 