“Snowflakes are falling down” Gun Roswell
Snowflakes
Tiny little things
Fragile, but they sing
A harmonious song
All of them singing along
As they venture way down
On to the solid ground
There is a soft thud
But nothing heard aloud
Piling on top of each other
Forming a blanket tether
Strong enough to walk on
Completing this monotonous song
Until such time the snowfall
Starts another round
And the circle continues
Until it’s time to loose
To the warmth of sunshine
“Friday I’m in love?” Gun Roswell
Friday
Tomorrow, I have to borrow
Skip today, like it was yesterday
Friday, my hero, without you, I am zero
The day of wonder, the day of bliss
Oh, how I have you, each day missed
I am sorry you had to go away
I wished, really, for you to stay
But I know, you cannot be everyday
So I am trying to enjoy, each and every day
But Friday, I miss you any way
Friday, always on my mind
Friday, is always so kind
Friday, yes, that is my day
Friday, I am in love with you
Friday, you are the only and true
“It’s a cliche, I know” Gun Roswell
Picturesque
Unique, incomplete
Something, perhaps very cheap
A picturesque vision
Drawn, with precision
Luring anyone to stares
Up the mountain hike as a dare
There may be he danger of falling
But, nature is calling, so quit stalling
“Half way through, half way to go, with one day to spare, Wednesday!” Gun Roswell
The Wednesday Poem
Midweek
Still trying to find
Without knowing
What I seek
Wednesday!
Hurry the hell up
Only few more to go
Until it’s Friday
In the middle
Playing an out of tune fiddle
Nothing about to giggle
It’s like threading a needle
Two down two more to go
Standing
Still unmoving in the middle of it all
Planning
Because…
Friday
That’s my very day
The weekend ahead
With plenty of rest
Half way done
Part of the fun
Wednesday
That ain’t no pun!
“Hiding from the sun, can be so much fun” Gun Roswell
Hiding under the shade
Outside, is the scorching sun
Staying, under, the shade, is so much more fun
You may think, it’s just a pun
But the truth been told, you get so much more done
In the shade, you don’t really need to complain
Hot or not, you won’t get burnt, the sun is blocked, without concern
Weather, is always great, even, if you arrive late
The cooling breeze, will keep you at ease, just watch out, not to freeze
Fun, under the shade, for those, who hesitate
Stepping into the scorching sun, you may get done
Red like a cooked prawn, laying in the front lawn
Stay, inside the shade, it’s better, than to hesitate
”Huge giant head, larger ego, totally a major headache” Gun Roswell
My big bloated head
My head big and giant
My body compared, tiny like an ant
None too reliant
For carrying such a heavy load
How did I end up on this road
Did I follow the toad or crow?
Neither, was the smarter
So I decided to do it on my own
Selling, compelling, telling
To the rest of the world yelling
I am the greatest, I am trying best
Put me on whatever test
They all loved me at first
The hunger grew with the thirst
Out there and everywhere
I went with no time to spare
Believing my own jargon
I finally was too far gone
My head kept swelling
The louder I was yelling
So here I sit in total solitude
Holding my big giant head
I was expecting gratitude
But in the end, only to my own devices left
“Best bet to take a seat, is in the shadow” Gun Roswell
Seated in the shadows
The midday sun, came out for some fun
But unintended, most likely was the burn undefended
As all the dwellers, needed to be reseated
So, what to do, as the options where so few
Several ideas then into the common sir flew
And after a moment of thought, they all knew what to do
A hustle and bustle then started all over the place
Because who would be fool enough for too long in the sun stay
Moving furniture around leaving oh so many stains
But as the deed was finally done
It was time for all hard working people to sit down
And enjoy their day, only this time, sitting in the cool shade
“The cats like to pack up, when going to sleep, for warmth and all that, I guess, or then, it’s something else completely” Gun Roswell
Three cats sleeping tightly
When cats, take a nap, they bundle up, snuggly with as many of them in there, tightly
This might just be, for the companionship, or for the warmth, or perhaps, because they can
Curling up, their flexible bodies in balls, as only the cats can, but also across the surface span
Widely and tall, even if they seem quite small, still, giving your very own bed, just to let
Those furry felines to have a rest, well, that is the way of the keepers of them cats
Letting them rest up, when even they must, and if you are lucky to have more than a few
Then maybe you can catch them all in a bunch of perhaps, they decided to make a row
Soon enough sleeping tightly, and leaving the keeper of them smiling as cats are cats
Be that a Caturday on a Saturday, or any other day of the week, they really do like to sleep
And sleep you must let them do, and soon enough follow maybe to a sleep you will them too
“Time is not a machine” Gun Roswell
Gimme a time machine!
“I need more time!” She said in an urgent tone
“Please, or else, gimme a time machine!” She pleaded, most desperately
Time is always of the essence
Time is never on our sides
Time is the beast that consumes us
Time is the one who’ll save us
What a contradiction is time
You can hear it moving by each turn of the chime
Oh how I wish I could make it mine
Stop it, for a few moments, to feel fine
Time is not the enemy some say
Time is just about relativity
Time is a friend in need
Time is something you really need
When it’s running out, there is a deep doubt
Will I eve get there and get my fare share
Always battling against it, when I should be embracing it
But as I lay my head to rest, I wish time to give me it’s best
“I will need to turn back the clock, as I missed so much and still so much to do” she told the time master
“Please grant me at least one use of this machine, and I’ll be the best person ever seen” she promised
“Sorry, little girl.” The master replied, “There is really no consideration to your request.” Adding “Humans cannot fathom the consequences of time travel and I won’t dare you to do so either.”
She looked dumbstruck at the time master. “What a piece of ..” She thought. But knowing when to fold her cards, she left hand bent, kicking some small stones, as along the long and narrow road, she once again started, her battle against, time.
“There may be hope for us after all” Gun Roswell
Hope
It feels like pink on a grey day
It embraces, and lets you stay
Secure, for a moment longer
Until, you have grown stronger
Rantings Of A Third Kind 