“The fresh smells of summer, still clearly in my mind, even if I can only, live them through, in the memories of my files” Gun Roswell
Summer’s garden gone, but not forgotten
The pictures, so totally vivid, and the colours equally lively It would have been impossible, to even take that guess, wildly Whether this was the real life, or just, a few simple memories
But, the garden will be, from now on sleeping for a while Still, there just might be, something there, surprisingly, alive Beneath all that soil, the dirty thing, protecting, that evidence
Even if it seems so completely discarded and dull like grey There, on the ground, lying, some half dead, and left over hay It won’t be long though, after the winter, a new time strong
The flowers, the grass, the berries, the birds and even, the bees Will be wildly blooming and all over humming, the green and full fields So, in a blink of an eye, the picture perfect setting, has come along
“Mundane Monday, with a view, well, something fun for the day at least to look out for” Gun Roswell
Autumn window view rant
This weeks Mundane Monday, really, started early But then again, I could not have been less surely As it seemed, that all the lights had been switched off Both inside and out, no matter what the clock Then, I recalled, that it was indeed, that time of the year When the sun has run away, most likely in fear Of the upon coming, of the never waited winter season Well, it seems to be, at least, the best guessed reason As the darkening of all the above skies, there, hover For the next few months, and there really is no bother To consider what the time states on the clock As it will be twilight, even if you had sunshine managed to stock So, just hold on to what ever light you can get your hands on As the utter fight for that ultimate and shining light Has begun, amongst the Northern tribes, and it’s certainly not fun As the struggle is real and the people are moving like stunned Alas the electrical devices, mimicking the daylight shining Are grabbed and bought, in a state of total whining Never mind, when you get back home and find That the lamp you thought, would bring you to shine Turns out to be either less efficient or worse of all, broken So, your only hope is to either go back and hope there is one more Or then, just go back to bed and stay indoors Until such time of the year, when you look out and leer Because it’s spring and the sun is switched on again!
“There is nothing more nostalgic, than perusing down the memory lane, I the form of old travel pictures of days now gone“ Gun Roswell
Go to Paris; in a virtual narrative
The busiest of streets, of the quite big metropolis, are never, ever dull The markets and shops, the bars, and even cafes, always, packed full At least, so it totally seems, in those very colourful snaps, of before When travelling, to distant and foreign lands, was not, such a chore
Alas, the sights and sounds alone, are well worth the total of this short trip To one of the best known cities, that of bright lights, some of us call, well, Paris Even if it is, just in the faded memory, of this traveller, now home bound There are still lots of thrills and quite joyful moments, there, to be found
Taking a virtual tour, of the times strolling on some afternoon by the shore And alongside the long river banks, and maybe even, a short tourist boat tour If you are game enough, then try to climb the steps up the tall tower structure The Eiffel one, with the shining lights, covering each and every touristy picture
No matter how long the trek or what the destination, take it, without hesitation Travel deep into the recesses of your own mind, in a cozy spot during meditation Pick up the best of places of your travel, take a walk through the night time streets Then make a short detour to the museums and later, how about something to eat
Well, at least, virtually, if you totally forgot To order home food, from the grocery shop As in times like these, to avoid that, disease All of us stay home, and mostly, out of reach
“Thar be cats of plenty, thar, in that row over thar, see?”“ Gun Roswell
Cats, in a row
One cat, two cats, three cats, in a neat row One of them, soon, the others will try to tow Because this is not a boat with oars to row
But that is neither here nor even there for this ditty As the most important thing in this are the kitties So, before this turns to something completely shitty
Moving along then, some rhyme finding…
The cats now neatly sitting, each other, are licking Still in a tight formation, from that never slipping They groom, they purr, they love, they slur, they sleep
This is a family of three, a kitty litter by all means Tight together, through thick and thin, or so it seems When, food time beckons, the matter all forgotten
Then each of them trying to rush and get to the plate To make sure they get the best treats before it’s too late Even if there is always plenty of grub to consume
But it is what it is, as there will be no trouble blooming Since the eldest of them, always gets first bite without assuming And the peace between these three, is kept without a miss
“The sun is not rising, as it will soon be, a polar night ” Gun Roswell
Early autumn morning in Suburbia
Early, before the sunrise, alas today, it wasn’t going to smile The cloud covered, grey and dark in coloured, low hanging skies Were preparing, for the upon coming time, that of the polar nights
“But, it was just summer!” Someone prompted like it was a bummer
“Yeah, and soon we will have snow” The other piled on quickly in the other ones tow
“Quit yammering about the weather you two, Because soon, it will be too dark and too cold To even dare to step out from the home old!” The third ones comment, surely shut their mouths
But whether the weather, was the topic or not This time of the year, was always, welcomed with a scoff As slumbering into darkness, was no way to get off
The difference at this time, between night and day Was hardly visible, to the beady eyes now slain By the blurred visions, from too long indoors staying
Only the cloudy and grey skies outside remained And even those ones, who would like to complain Had to admit, that it was cozy, inside their own domains
After all, this was a yearly thing in stall For all those small dwellers, up the far north Pending their time, before the coming of Some other type of seasonal weather But that was a topic, after this time, of fall
“It was a dark and stormy night, at least, when you turned off, all the lights, and I guess, it was windy too, outside, as the title suggested it, right?“ Gun Roswell
A Cold and Stormy Night
The window view, as I was peeking through, in the darkness of the middle of the night Most certainly, gave this, always up of a night owl type, quite the heart chilling fright As the pouring, all soaking rain, was completely leaving, the window surface stained But then again, it is just the ever changing weather, so who on earth, would complain?
And even if, some of the naturally occurring seasonal changes, sometimes, makes one sad Especially, when the freezing cold air, is slowly seeping in, no matter how warmly you are clad But hey, this is only one season out of many, with the types are plenty, or at least, we hope There might be more of them, coming our way, because I just got myself, a new winter coat
Alas, whether the weather gods above, decide us to allow, some good stuff, more or less Sunshine, rain, snow or yes, even wind, it will all be good, as long as we get all the variables And maybe more, so, next time when I peep through the window, to the great wide, outside I will enjoy the view, no matter what, as performed by Mother Nature, without too much of a whine
“The seasonal harvest, is finally at hand, and well, it wasn’t really anything planned, but I am going to pick me some, that’ll be fun!“ Gun Roswell
Berries, certainly, on the very top
See, the beautiful blue, black, yellow, green, but mostly red Which are, oh so gorgeous, berries, and tasty as, well, hell So, not really any kind of sense in, them completely wasting Do, pick up, a few, or more, of them buckets and go chasing Those, absolutely juiciest and sweet tidbits of the mother nature And then climbing up that tall ladder, and what, an adventure! Really, just do your best ever(so far) thing before that winter And, maybe earn in the process, a few of them ouch-y splinters But, really, the main point, of this, totally silly and very little ditty Is certainly not to do, a lot of any kind of, self serving type pity Rather, for you, yes, you, to get up, go, to the very outside And, finally, to absolutely enjoy the garden, one more time Maybe, even pick up a few of those berries here mentioned Before, the cold hearted winter snow makes its intervention
“Watching the skies, for what ever up there, might just fly by; birds, dinosaurs, airplanes, ufos, they really are all, quite interesting“ Gun Roswell
Autumn and the nightfall
The skies started, to slowly turn, from a plain and dull grey With the appearance, of some, quite unexpected lights of rays As it was such a pleasant surprise, and thus saving, the day
It was after all, close, to the days end, and the night fall Where the time, for a blink, of an eye of a moment, stalls And all of us mere mortals down here, standing, ever, so small Awaiting, for that one spectacle, promised, since early morn’
Good things come to those, who dare to wait in line And, as keeping on gazing up, into the deep and darkening skies What do these tired and old vision goggles finally, do spy But a gorgeous painting, forming, right there, before the very eyes
As the performance of the clouds, lights and stars, high in the skies Begin their nightly dance, with a slow pace, almost a state of trance Before all of us small beings, who consider themselves, devoted fans
“The seat on the sunny side, usually beckons to sit down, even, if you are not tired” Gun Roswell
Midday sun, Seated, no energy to run
The midday sun, high up, in the cloud free and cool blue, afternoon sky Was burning the skins, of all and anyone, daring, to venture, outside Without at least, a full and total coverage, of some kind of defensive clothing Even if it means, constantly pouring sweat and uncomfortable moaning
So, for now, walking down the streets, looking, for something, totally sweet First, the pace was fast, then more and more slowly, because, of the heat Thinking, that then again, the hot weather, might not just be the very best Time of eating any type of candy or cake, or anything sugary to say the least
Even hot coffee, at breakfast in the morning, seemed more, like a chore Luckily for this, very weary traveller, some genius, had invented a more Appealing version of the dark liquid, fancily, called frappe, so basically, a latte But only in a state of very cold and calming, poured in a tall kind of glass-e
Alas, soon enough, all thoughts of any kind of food or anything else to eat Was pulled out of the mind, as that totally consuming, sweat pouring heat Started to get the best of this, supposed explorer of all kinds of things great And then, the slowing down of the feet, so telling, it was, time, for a break
Suddenly, without any kind of warning, the sun, still terribly scorning Sent out a ray (or multiple rays) of light, shining, on to something alluring A bench, appeared, from the middle of nowhere, and placed, just in front The road to the beach front, sitting there, as it was waiting for this runt
And to top it all, seeing, a bottle, of something cooling inside, laid there Just like it had been dropped especially by order, somehow, knowing, I swear It was still ice cold, sizzling there, when I dared to step closer and touch it And then, when I was sure, it was real, I gently, and slowly, down sat, I did
Oh, what a total relief, I sighed, in utter bliss Even if the touch of the bottle, made a slight hiss Of a sound to the very warm, nay, hot air But then again, I really, did not have time to care
Because this bench and water had me The weary, tired traveller out in the heat So completely, with one simple seating Saved, and thank you so much indeed!
“As the moon lit up the dark night skies, and I could finally walk without stumbling on the narrow path“ Gun Roswell
Reaching for the moon from the tallest tree top
The full moon, hovered, high above all, in the dark night sky It was so brightly lit, that it totally looked, like a shiny ball of a light Alluring and completely inviting, as it was, with all of its luminescence I was so tempted, to catch it, and the only option for me presented Was, to climb up, really high, and up the tallest of the trees in sight And then, if luck would have it, I could ever so easily reach out And simply, capture, the brightly lit ball, in to, my very own pouch But also knowing very well, this trip, would not be without an ouch
Finally, daring, with some hesitation, to venture up the sturdy tree trunk I knew then and there, that the option, of this very mission, to totally flunk Was not an option at all, rather a the commissioned order, ever so tall And that was, to capture the mighty and bright moon, once and for all Alas, the forces that be, were definitely, not on the side of little ol’ me As the higher I climbed the tall tree, the more out of reach the moon seemed to be In the end, I reached the very top, and as I dared to gaze up The moon, was higher than even before and no matter what
I was not able, to even reach it So, that, in essence, was simply it! Remaining only, a tall tale of an endeavour With the completion time set, to never
Rantings Of A Third Kind 