Tuesday? Only Tuesday?

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“Sometimes it’s just a slow week is all, but then, it’s suddenly Sunday?” Gun Roswell

The days come along one by one (usually the way they do)
It’s almost like singing a song (verse by verse moving along)
Today it’s Tuesday, when only yesterday it was Sunday (that’s how I recall it)
And now, it’s getting late, no matter how I hesitate, tomorrow will be here, I can feel it near (What do you know: It’s Wednesday and midweek, what a geek!)

Guess I need to stop worrying about Mondays anyway (Oh, did you worry before? Did not know that…)
Since the days keep on changing without my aid (Yeah, need a time machine for that!)
Why worry about some day, when there is always the next day (True, do like the Spanish do, manana!)
So, on this day of …ahem, Tuesday, I swear, not to worry about another damned day!!! (Liar! You know this promise or what ever is as good as the up and down going fever! You will never keep it, trust me, I know shit!)

Bring it on Tuesday, Wednesday and even Friday (Don’t forget Monday and something else!)
Every day, from this day on is my day (note to writer, how many times can you get away with the word “day”?)
I will start appreciating the here and now (Yeah, really! Like to see that)
And then, if not, nobody have a cow! (We already did! It’s there in the backyard!)

Spring cacophony in Red

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“So many colours out there, you go nuts!” Gun Roswell


Spring cacophony in Red

The red dominated the scene
Even left behind, was all the green
Fading into the black and white
As the red had finally got on its fight
Against the dreary and dull
With temperatures below the null
From now on nothing but strong colours
With lots of delightfully intoxicating odours
Spring has sprung
The world is feeling young
So, go out and enjoy the scenery
Which now exist in plenty
Guess it is really that time
When sitting outside
With a cool glass of wine
And no longer living in the phase of stun
But going out there, for some long awaited fun

Row Boat Ahoy!

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“Row row row a boat, gently down the moat” Gun Roswell

Row Boat Ahoy!

A boat from the times simple
May some good old memories kindle
On a day filled with sunlight
When nothing and none is uptight

Take a ride on the lake
With this ye old boat, no fake
Row a while, then maybe smile
On this day of summers so fine

It may be old a rickety
But try to use it skilfully
And to the wide side of the water’s deep
Then back again, it will have brought thee

Roses of red in monochrome pose

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“Roses of any colour are so gorgeous, even in black and white poses” Gun Roswell

Roses of red in monochrome pose

The neatly made arrangement, in the tall vase
Making sure, the flowers, in an orderly stance stay
The fresh cut stems, certainly trimmed to fit
As all the colourful, roses inside of it neatly sit

The pose, so completely natural, it’s almost second nature
The plush petals trimmed, to reminisce that of a statue 
The strong yet delicate odour, filling, the surrounding air
As such is the nature, of this ever so romantic floras flair

Even, when stripped all the way down, to the bare basics 
The lush colours, the volume, and all other imaginable clicks
These, as the most beautiful roses, still stand tall in their form
Grey in colour now, but, that could have easily been the norm

But, it does not really matter in the end, too much really
Whether the image can be seen sharp, or even so clearly 
And certainly no kind of colour, even black or white
Can bring out the very essence or do just justice 

Cloud Building in the High Skies

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“The world is filled with so much colour, so better add some black and white to it!” Gun Roswell

Cloud Building in the High Skies

Is it a mirage?
A clever camouflage?
What ever the cause
You can only applause

The moon in noir

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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 in noir

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.

Winter in Black and White

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“Oh the snow! It just keeps on pouring, doesn’t it!” Gun Roswell

Winter in Black and White

No sense in wasting colour
It won’t get any better or duller
The nature all in monochrome
Like after a white paint bomb

Life at sea in Monochrome

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“Life in black and white like in the olden days, so simple and neat, am I right!?” Gun Roswell

Life at sea in Monochrome

I am neither black or white
I am just a grey delight
Maybe not so much fun
Being only a colour of one
That of a monotone
But not a clone
Or then I am, whatever
But,
You may call me,
Monochrome

In Monochrome (seven)

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“My philosophy is quite simple: it’s not just black and white, but sprinkled with so many shades of grey” Gun Roswell


The Flower

Going, going, almost gone
Now from summer, it’s so long
But something else, will come along
When fall and then winter
Will sing their songs

In Monochrome (six) 

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“Black and white? The two colours shine so very bright, am I right?!”  Gun Roswell


The Lighthouse

A tall tower and its smaller twin
Living, side by side,
On an island, made from winds

With the blue ocean wide
And the land around them thin
No hiding, from the high tide

But together they survive
For they are kind
And nothing them, can divide