“It’s all in the perspective of things, right?” Gun Roswell
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!
“It’s the good ole times, all in black and white or more like, monochrome greys?” Gun Roswell
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
“The destination really isn’t as important as what happens on the journey to get there, the anticipation of what awaits ahead, the ever changing vistas and methods of travel, the people met along the way… It’s all part of the whole.” Gun Roswell
Flying across the skies
Waiting for the price
At the end of the station
A promised vacation
The journey taken
Was not a long one
Each morning awoken
To the rays of the sun
Surrounded by history
Shrouded in mystery
Time spent on the beach
Bliss at hands’ reach
Enjoying each day
Life a large buffet
“The journey always begins with but one step…. or then, there’s a heck of a lot of planning involved, some monetary expenses and guess, time off to have?” Gun Roswell
Flying across the skies
Waiting for the price
At the end of the station
A promised vacation
The journey taken
Was not a long one
Each morning awoken
To the rays of the sun
Surrounded by history
Shrouded in mystery
Time spent on the beach
Bliss at hands’ reach
Enjoying each day
Life a large buffet
Until it was time
Back home to climb
“Sometimes, a cat simply needs a walk, but why waste them delicate paws as handbags have been invented!” Gun Roswell
“I keep my cat
In my handbag”
Said the old hag
And, with a snag
Lighting a fag
“It’s not a gag,
so just cut me some slack”
She quickly snapped
As she zigzagged
A price tag
Like a yellow flag
Flashing on her ragtag
And out of fashion coat
Stepping into a boat
Flinging in her large tote
The cat sprung out
And onto the float
In a few quick strokes
She rowed across the moat
“It is the end for this year, summer, fall, winter knocking at the door…. alas next year, same time same bat channel?” Gun Roswell
The end of August
Time to adjust
To the coming of Fall
No use trying to stall
The cold and rain
Will soon gain
The sun rays are few
Feelings of blue
Until the foliage
In multiple colours
Will brighten the days
Get you out of the haze
And life is bright
Once more
“History, in motion on full display” Gun Roswell
Tall, big and dandy
Like a castle, made of sand
Home of many a kings and queens
While visiting, maybe some of them to be seen?
I spy, with my eye, a fortress
Defying history, by being ageless
Statuesque, with stony walls
Standing in place, never to fall
Plenty of people will stand there and ogle
Some of them looking through their goggles
A sight for the tourists and centuries
But maybe not there, for all to please
“Travel the world in black and white, it’s an experience with little if nothing to hide!” Gun Roswell
On the busy streets of London
There is no time for boredom
While roaming the ancient ruins for Greece
Breathe and let the moment freeze
Sailing the gorgeous lakes in Italy
Watching the clouds filling the sky to affinity
Sightseeing, travelling or shopping
There is no time for stopping
Around the wide wide world
Me and my camera are hurled
“It’s like a blast from the past, all that volcanic land!” Gun Roswell
Scenic views
Ocean of blue
Fluffy clouds
Dancing allowed
Palm trees
In abundance
Sunshine
With substance
“She sits there, whispering all kinds of secrets, so you’d better listen very carefully what the Oracle has to say!” Gun Roswell
History written in stone
Time to get my mind blown
Hiking up the many stairs
Counting my steps in pairs
The many ancient ruins
On top of the mountain
The reward of the effort
Which made me sweat a lot
Rantings Of A Third Kind 