A foggy day at the beach

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“No matter, sunshine or not, as it is almost summer, going to the beach is a must “ Gun Roswell

No matter the day or time or even season
There is an inherit urge to the point of treason
Against the odds that is, as it is, the beach
Is not accessible to most of us except during summer
Which is a big bummer, but then again, winter
Is the eternal splinter, with all the cold weather
Snow and such, most of us don’t really care about
Of course there is the options to carve a small hole
Into the ice if you are really feeling that kind of bold
And dive into the freezing cold of the water
And the running but naked into the hot and humid sauna
But, for now, it might not be the perfect kind of state
As spring and therefore summer are totally delayed
For a visit to the sandy shores, still, trying as one must do
Getting there, in the foggy kind of haze, finding the perfect place
And then laying down on the sun bed, even if clothed fully
In warm winter clothing, but it is already April and the beach?

Well, it may be out of reach for some time more
But hey, spending a day, even in the icy cold winds
It was still the beach and nothing or no one can deny
That I’ve got a huge big smile on my face just because, beach!

Look out the window!

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“Look, through the window, look outside, into, the open world wide!” Gun Roswell

Above these fluffiest of clouds, ever so high
Life, all the way so fast, passing me by
On these biggest of wings, on the fly
Looking out, for any and all of the signs
Of maybe, some kind of, extraordinary life
But, for me, here, today, the only thing I can see
Are the endless mountains and maybe, the sea

In the open waters of the far away archipelago
On an barren island, totally for myself, borrowed
The life, is passing by, so utterly and unbelievable slow
The weather constantly changing, from sun to flow
Of so much rain, against all of the open windows
And, without much of anything, really to do
On this forsaken world and in my small bungalow

A suburban afternoon, spent, inside as once again, barred
From the common place of a playground, on the large yard
So, the only pass time for now, is to watch the life, through
My oh so very small and shadowed window, with a view
But, the place, is seemingly at least for today, deserted
As there are simply, no people or any kind of sounds, reverberated
Through the concrete build, of this community, of suburbia

Waiting, once again, same as every day, for the always delayed lift
After a long and really hard (and absolutely shitty) work shift
Feeling bored, and maybe, this is really not the time for any of it
But I am always interested, in any kind of happening, totally hip
So, once again, spending time, watching, through the panoramic windows
As the lift car downwards shifts and I am able to better see the show
Starting on the streets, at this hour of the ever, life so interesting, I go
And join the others there, instead of just standing by the window and stare

Dark Shadows in the Skies above

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“Sometimes it gets darker, much much darker before the light shines through” Gun Roswell

The sky filled with darkness
The cast shadows seem harmless
The calm before the storm
Everything soon to transform
The rain and thunder soon to follow
The earth and skies swallowed
By nature’s display of power
No need to feel sour
Soon the sun will shine again
And the bad weather will be slain

Happy Halloween?

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“Sleeping in the park, on a hard bench? Yeah, well, it happens to people a lot more often than you might think, and it’s not even Halloween!” Gun Roswell

Surrounded by dark and misty air
Missed the very last fare
Sitting on this, park bench
Wishing I had worn a warm trench
The eerie, dark and damp surroundings
Leaving my heart pounding
Not a single soul in sight
On this mystical, scary night
Wrapping my thin coat tighter
My mood getting suddenly lighter
I hear some noises
A car in the distance, approaches
Finally… do I have a ride!?!

By the monochromatic seashore

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“Ships passing in the distance, the weather grey and dull, as is the sea, no complaints though, sitting here observing life passing by, and waiting for the sun to shine” Gun Roswell

I still remember
That one September
The bluest of skies
And it was warmer than July
The water clear and inviting
The air soft and delighting
Not a worry in sight
Everything quite right
In the distance
For an instance
A boat or two
Disappearing from the view
Most tourists already gone
Leaving us alone
Enjoying in peace
With a short lease
The last rays of summer

Just passing by over here, nothing to see!

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“Just two ships passing each other by, in the very ocean wide” Gun Roswell 

It was a calm and hazy early morning, as the two ships emerged without a warning, passing each other close by, as it was planned, but only on the fly. Sailing in from the opposite direction of one and other, only meeting in the middle of the inter section, they hardly had time to meet or even give a proper greet. As simply floating by the other, never touching, only glancing once, maybe twice. But there really was no time to say anything else let alone something nice to the other, as the flow kept on going and there really was no stopping it. A well known fact for both, as they knew that despite their slow motion, it was inevitable for the two of them to meet. But, there was nothing more of an option for them, except this on fleeting moment in time, seeing each other for the first and also last time, as the two slow boats, were just passing each other by, and maybe that was enough, and both of them could be just fine after the chance encounter, perhaps by design.

Row, row, row your boat

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“Sometimes, life might seem like a dream, while more often times, it just turns out to be, a nightmare, so prepare to – scream!” Gun Roswell


Row, row, row your wee puff-puff boat,
Gently down the narrow yet calm stream
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily,
Life, yeah that ole thing,
Might just be, but some kind of a dream!

Well, unless you wake up
But better just continue paddling just the same
As this might just all be, quite real!

World Photography Day

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The camera doesn’t really matter
What matters, is having the idea
For that shot you always wanted
And that’s how the magic happens

  • Gun Roswell

Help a brother, won’t ya! (Caturday)

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“Just a little help is all you can give to someone in need” Gun Roswell

There was something very interesting definitely there, on the window sill
As the two small size cats, kittens really, now on the floor, circled around, at will
Trying to get up, with still growing but short legs still, was quite the feat tough
And even trying to very hard to hop, hop, hop off of, the very flat ground
It seemed impossible to get up there, where something great was to be found
But neither of them succeeding, on their own, so what to do now, they frowned
Then a thought, came to the others mind, maybe working together was fine
Even if they both competed with each other for every single little thing in kind
But this time, maybe it was enough, if one of them reached on the very top
And then the other would know too, what it was so interesting up and out there
Which was intruding their very own domain, and threatening, just of the same
And then the smaller one pushed the bigger one, with a huff, on to the very ledge
Urging him to seek, search and then, to destroy, what ever it was disturbing their day
As the bigger cat got up, he turned back with a huff and a puff, as the only thing
Was a small spider, weaving its web while singing, and now already out of reach
For the small cat and his friend, whom, so eagerly had for big game tried to seek

“What a total bust!” The striped cat told the black cat, “Just a small spider, alas!”

“Yeah, all for nothing, that huffing and puffing!” The black cat told the striped cat. “But when we tell this story to the others, it was some kind of a big elephant or tiger, which we fought really hard against.” She then added.

“Agreed!” Said the striped cat, “And next time, I will let you be the one to go see.” He stated as the two of the strolled back to the litter, to tell a great story of two hunters, they were, slaying wild game without hesitance or even one flicker.

A trip up the mountain, of Acropolis

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“A hike up the mountain so tall, to observe history in action” Gun Roswell

Basking in the sun
Athens, Acropolis
A place of fun
A place of knowledge

Climbing up the mountain
Looking for the fountain
Of wisdom and history
Shrouded in mystery

Walking in the footsteps
Of the ancient Greeks
But, watch your steps
On the narrow streets

Once reaching the top
The effort but one hop
The view of awe and beauty
You know it really was your duty