Under the palm tree leaves, I do sleep

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“It is, a different kind of fun, hanging there, under, the bright sun, but then again, I don’t like to run”
Gun Roswell


The warm winds, gently, heaved, above me, in the tall palm tree leaves
As I laid under there, in the dark shadows, looking up, only to see
The sunshine, now curiously peeking, as if for something, it had to seek
Or then it was just me, being, once again, that one special kind of a geek
As I was conjuring up, all kinds of scenarios, where the very sun, was a being
From another world, with an agenda, and some sort of a ransom, and then chasing
All us, lowly humans, here, on the planet Earth and because of just that, making
Us, to go to permanent hiding, from those ever vigilant and ever searching
Rays so brightly lit, it was becoming more and more difficult, in the shadows to fit
But, for me, the gentle, caring and soft cover, of the tall and ever green
Palm of a tree, provided all the cool shelter, I could possibly ever need

up close and personal

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When the nature has shed
Summer’s green
The colours of red
Is all that is seen
Leaves and berries
Even the cherries
Shining brightly
So tread lightly
When stepping into nature

Vehicles of Various Kinds We Be

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They are motorized
Some may even tantalize
All vehicles great and small
Some faster, some crawl
Dented or ship shape
You cannot escape
Stopping and glaring
With nostrils flaring

“I want one!”

Coffee? On a Tuesday???

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“Is this supposed to rhyme?”


Coffee on a Tuesday
Coffee on a Wednesday
Coffee on a Thursday
Even some on a Friday…

A completely different story
On a Saturday
Coffee double shots
From full brewed pots
It may be a lot
But not for a Sunday
That is another day
When drinking coffee
Is allowed

Now on Monday…
Well, that is a whole new story!

A bench to sit on high up

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I was looking for
A bench to sit on
What I hoped to score
Something close to a lawn
To lay my tired self
On a softer shelf

Then I saw it
The bench, made of stone
When I tried to sit
I felt it to my bones
Too hard for a fit!

Moving forward
I found one, made of wood
Maybe it wasn’t hard
Rather suitably good
Too soft for a fit!

So once again
I had to complain
But I knew, the right seat
Was just in reach
I just had to seek

A little while longer
As I moved along
The feeling now stronger
I knew it wouldn’t be long
I was close to finding
As I saw the metal shining

I finally found it
A bench made of metal
For me to sit
Soft as a petal
A purr-fect fit

A cat’s spot

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“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 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

Sitting on the Old Town benches

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“Because it’s a bench”

Sit down
Have a rest
In the old town
No need for stress

The history
Of this city
In one glance
Fall into a trance

Close your eyes
Let the millenia
Take you down
The memory lane

Vibes

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“Sometimes, it’s good to just sit down, take a breather, lift your feet up and simply, exists” Gun Roswell

Another boring working week, finally, in the box
Despite, having planned, quite a lot
But barely doing, the minimum required
Even if, I had some complements acquired
But, today, is that one day, I usually root for
Yes, Friday eve, is finally, knocking at the door!
So, it is time to hang up the keyboard
And pick up a completely new chord
Because this time, is my own special time
Either spent binge watching my favourite shows
Or then, going down the memory lane flow
Meaning mostly, digging up old pictures
Of those rare and few memorable fixtures
Where time was spent in a more favourable place
Where seemingly nothing changes and time still stands
Alas, I am talking about the summer, or rather those few days
Where the sun and the sea, were totally in sync
Showing all kinds of blues off the waves blink
Sitting by that seashore, without any kinds of chores
Well, those days are certainly missed
Now that the darkness slowly starts to piss
On this otherwise solemn and organised daily bliss
But hey, it’s the weekend, so, no more wallowing spent
On the old memories of summer days gone by
Because we all know, time flies
No matter if you are having fun or not
Or even if it is really cold or painfully hot
Enjoy the day, no matter what
Friday, or hey, even a damned Monday
Those can all be, some kind of fund days

Sunset extraordinary

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Reflecting surfaces
Free of disturbance
Shadows on the walls
Where ever light falls
Red as the colour
Always a stunner

Up in the tower
Feeling empowered
Staring at the horizon
Evermore surprising
The setting of the sun
Was a true home run