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

The moon is monochrome

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“The night or the day, no matter which way you decide to cypher it, the moon is out there, hanging above even if somewhat dimly lit“ Gun Roswell 


The moon was out, hanging above in the clear blue sky, nothing there to spy, not really, but it could have as easily have been in the middle of the night, as the light, was so dim.

Either because of the timing, being that of summer, the day never ending, and so day or night, all the same, as the sun and moon together keeps on spinning.

Or then, it was the day of a ver dark and dreary autumn month, the shades blurring in together, to each other, the shadow, the light, all the grey shades of neither and then both, the monochrome, the noir, all of it one simple colour.

Whatever it is you see up there with your own bare eyes, is the truth, whether the sky is blue, or pitch black dark, the moon is always there, looking mighty smart.

Blocked by the Sun

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“The sun will be shining, long after we are all gone, and even if it may be dimming, never again so strong, for now, trust that the rise and set will be there for you to let, dictate your very days to come“ Gun Roswell

The streets are as long as are the shadows cast, the very mood, the overall ambience just like from the past, meant to last, long after those admiring the special moment, have come and gone, and over the rainbow bridge passed.

And so, do not worry, and for goodness sake, don’t be sorry if missing the special spell in time, as the sun will come back again in the morning, it always does, even if there just might be a totally cloudy cast and with rain and thunder hitting hard, because the sun, is somewhere there, behind the curtain, only waiting for its moment to shine through.

And so, with that thought, safely go to bed, fall asleep, knowing, the one sure thing in life will be there, even if all other things might just fall apart, as the globe of fire, is totally smart, meant to last, way longer than any kind of life, here on this small blue ball.

Grey but no rain?

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“Bring me rain, so I can finally breathe” Gun Roswell

Bring me no shine no more
But lots of rain down on me pour
I need to breathe in the liquid
This sunshine is killing me quickly

I tried so hard to adjust
Because I was told I must
But in the scorching light
I feel my will lost the fight

I was happier in the darker dreary
Feeling everything near me
The shiny bright open wide
I cannot find a place to hide

Shadow almost gone now
Even the winds hotly blow
Only one place left to go
But I cannot reach the under growth

Please hear my plead o’ mighty Thor
Send down some rain and roar
Heal this bleeding sores
Before all that remains is deadly scorned

Statuesque

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“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!

Monochrome

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“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 journey begins…

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“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

It’s all about the Journey

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“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

Cats and Handbags

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“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