Metallic Twist

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“Oh I’ll twist it right, in there!” Gun Roswell

Metallic Twist

In a twist of metal, she was born
In the early hours, before sunrise, at dawn
She stretched extremities with a yawn
And then realized, in full length, she was not small

Now, in the middle of the room on her pedestal
She stands there, people gawking, like she was an angel
But she does not mind, she gets off on the stares
Even with an expressionless face, internally, she glares

For she, is no angel, nor is a mere mortal
Her goal to stir trouble, ever since arriving through that portal
The poor artist in creation, was never the wiser poor soul
Of what evil things he let loose, twisting that metallic roll

She is no hurry, watching, waiting, for that special moment
When everyone is under her spell, and then only starts the torment
The eternal yearning, the struggle within, of wanting, never having
That is her agenda, to raise hope, but never giving

Winter Architecture

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“Snow versus the concrete, that’s really neat!” Gun Roswell

Winter Architecture

When a lot of snow poured
Onto the suburbian plateaus
The scene of the architecture
Changed the whole structure
Of the way people viewed
As everything looked brand new

But of course there were always those few
Who were quick to criticize without a preview
Retorting it was nothing but a hoax
Of the now gorgeous and pristine wintry cloak
Always the naysayers never enjoying life
Because it’s apparently more constructive to be with strife

Alas the others did not care
But strolled outside without scare
Standing in the streets and in awe stare
After all, for some, it was still fair
To enjoy life and all the changes there

Seven Cats for Caturday (five)

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“There be cats here!” Gun Roswell

Seven Cats for Caturday

Hideaway

I may be young
A little kitty
But hiding is fun
And you cannot find
Me under this hay
Much to your dismay
But if you are nice
I’ll bring you some mice

What?
Hooman don’t eat them?
What kind of a cat are you?

Happy Birthday, William Shatner!

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Happy Birthday, William Shatner!

O Captain, my Captain!
Or is it Mr William Shatner?
Difficult to separate
Call it luck or call it fate

Watching my favourite show
Alerted by the familiar klaxon
Captain James T Kirk is on
Then nothing can go wrong

When on Vulcan
Do as the Vulcans do
Dear Captain, my Captain
Dear Mr Shatner

Live Long and Prosper!

The City

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“It’s so crowded, don’t you think?” Gun Roswell

The City

The city never sleeps, or so, it seems
But, if you look a little closer, you may spot a “dozer”
Deeply napping, in the middle of all the happening
But, nobody seems to notice, is it because of choice?

So many sounds and voices surrounding
Looking around, there is no place for grounding
Bright colours or grey, it’s all the same
Everyone gets by, unnoticed, without fame

So many people, so many buildings
The city, covered by an invisible gilding
“All is well” they say, even if someone, is in dismay
And the napper keeps on napping, alive or dead
No one has the time or effort to care

Spring in Barcelona

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“Spring is going to spring” Gun Roswell

Spring in Barcelona

It’s that time of the year
When life is kicking to full gear
The signs are clearly out there
Just venture outside without fear

The flowers, birds and bees
Come out from their hiding to seek
The freshness of new life in leap
Open your own eyes to see

Time for travels to a country foreign
Hoping some sights to be scoring
Nothing in this place is boring
Even the buildings tell a story

Look up and down, and all around
Plenty of things and people to be found
Nature at is best, even the ground
Green grasses, leaves and flowers make a sound

Spring at home or over seas
Nothing better on the wish list indeed
Glad to shed the clothes of winter
And tell all, spring is finally in here

Sunset Ride

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“Sunset, sea and horses” Gun Roswell

Sunset Ride

A slow ride, on the soft sand
When the sun, is about to descend
Nothing but silence, surrounding
The nature clear and grounding

My stead, moving along
It’s stride, quite strong
Just me, by myself, alone
On this nightly journey, so long

To sun has finally set
And into the nightly sky, the moon let
It’s thin light still so bright
On this journey it just might
Stay all of the night

Narrow

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“Narrow are the paths we travel” Gun Roswell

Narrow

The narrowest of streets I walk
No one here trying me to stalk
Only an alley cat at me will gawk

As I keep on going, fastening my pace
Looking forward to that new place
Because, for me, it’s always the chase
For something new and exiting
Something pleasant and inviting
For my mind and body, enticing

But what ever I find at the end
I know I wont long there spend
Because I know I usually tend
To leave, before the good things start

Once in Winter

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“OK, but only this, one time!” Gun Roswell

Once in Winter

It only happens, once
Not twice, three times, but, once
Once, in this time, of winter

Packing them out from the closet
Waiting, non too eagerly for the next step
Putting those damned things on

Struggling with the boot
It seems, my socks, too many I did choose
Taking some off, shoe fits like a glove

Stepping outside
Into the snow inviting, snide!
A pair of wooden planks with two sticks await me

Securing all them hundred latches
Now, I need some tracks to catch
And off swooshing like a true Finn I finally am

Yes, I can, but still, this is not fun
Pardon the intended pun
Skiing is a pain, especially up the hill

Feeling the thrill though on my skin
When going fast down the hill
And after a few more strokes, I am finally done!

The once in a winter thing, accomplished
Now back inside to reward myself
With a hot beverage, with some alcohol, hopefully
This weather made me feel quite dully

Seven Cats for Caturday (four)

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“There be cats here!” Gun Roswell

Seven Cats for Caturday

Pretty

Sitting pretty, singing this ditty
I may not be so witty
But call me cute or even beautiful
And around you I will purr
Giving it good and bountiful
I am the gorgeous one
Sitting pretty, like no one can