“In the past, life was black and white or at least some kind of greyish colouring scheme?” Gun Roswell
The Forest
Winter continues with all its muster
Snow pouring down, faster and faster
The forest with its trees covered in light
Powdery crystals in the colour of white
A passageway in front quite clear
Do not hesitate or fear
Take a step into the wonder and delight
And soon you have something about to write
“In the past, life was black and white, right? Just check out the movies!” Gun Roswell
The Tree
Snow covering, all of the land
Just like designed and planned
The Winter’s hand
Lays heavily on each strand
Not one inch de-clutched
Not one place untouched
Nature has made its mark
With a white noiseless bark
“Peekaboo, I see you!”
Peekaboo
From its current hiding
It comes out looking for something
But then suddenly backing
Never any answers giving or asking
Playing, toying, lurking
Peeking, checking, probing
You may try a tactic different today,
Then shout out:
“Hey, you there; why don’t you come out and play!?”
There is no way of knowing
Whether it’s coming or going
Whatever it has decided of doing
It is for sure, there will be a surprise
Laying low, until it’s time to blow
But for now, just taking it slow
And then: out of the blue:
“Peekaboo, I see you!”
…what a ride it has been!
and so, the journey continues…
A huge big thanks to all my readers, my friends out here in the World Wide Web of things!!!
“It’s all in the perspective of things” Gun Roswell
Flying Up
Catching the winds of spring
Soaring high up, my song to sing
I am a pretty bird in flight
And I may not always choose right
But I am sure this direction
Is the one I need for completion
Of my getting up so high
Even so far as the crows fly
Despite being a miniature beaked thing
There is no rule saying I cannot sing
And thusly, I am up here
In the open wide stratosphere
Higher than any other bird ever
In your face, for being clever!
“Time for summer winds and sails” Gun Roswell
Close enough to the mountains
Close enough to the seashore
As I try to some mountains score
That is simply, because
I really want a picture perfect to adore
So now, here I am, browsing
The sea line slowly drowsing
Hoping for that best of scenes
In my view point to achieve
Maybe not today, maybe not to tomorrow
But I know that even if I have to borrow
An image from some other land
I will get my mountain view as here I stand (or sail)
“I see a bunch of greys” Gun Roswell
Monochromania in the sunshine land
Looking at the world through monochromatic eyes
Eyes wide without any shade or disguise
Disguise, which is so easy to cover
Cover up all the faults
Faults only visible in true colours
Colours so easily distorted Distorted like the inevitable truth
Truth which cannot be hidden Hidden in the shades and shadows
Shadows only seen in the darkness
Darkness hiding in the black Black and white turning to grey
Grey, which is the true colour Colour without any kind of colour
Colour only described as monochrome
Monochrome in so many shades
Shades you learn to love Love rather than hate Hate really is such an ugly colour
Colour so much more than any other
Other could be like monochrome Monochrome mania Mania to celebrate it all
“From the busy streets, towards the calm beach, that is the goal in life” Gun Roswell
Calm as the Sunset
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
“From the busy streets, towards the calm beach, that is the goal in life” Gun Roswell
Busy as in a Traffic Jam
Busy, and too loud, are the streets I now walk
There is so much noise, I cannot her anyone nor myself talk
As I move forward, a lot of unhappy people I stalk
Sometimes just to the nature of things I this chalk
But then I start to dream, as I continue still with much steam
My face lights up, almost see the gleam, as it beams
When a blurry vision, almost seeing the image, of place without scrimmage
As it appears to my mind, but it seems so hard to focus, before I have crossed the line
Just then, I see it, I can feel it, grasp it
Then something happens, shit!
I start running, ever faster, chasing the shadow
What is it? A green meadow?
“The sunset painted the sky red” Gun Roswell
Hot ball of fire high up in the skies
A rounded ball
Ball of fire
Fire so strong
Strong enough to keep going
Going for an eternity
Eternity lasting for a day
Day of light
Light of the sun
Sun now setting
Setting until dawn
Dawn awaited for the night
Night so dark
Dark as the black skies
Skies soon turning
Turning to the blues
Blues before the light
Light so bright
Bright as the sun
Sun giving life
Life going on below
Below on the ground
Ground never the skies
Skies are so high
High as the stars
Stars cannot be reached
Reached with my hand
Hand raised high up
Up towards the skies
Skies, never stop watching!
Rantings Of A Third Kind 
