An ordinary day with an ordinary morning, maybe?

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“It was supposed to be a regular day at the office, but when I arrived in the early morning hours, something totally odd had happened, and this is the story of that” Gun Roswell

An ordinary day with an ordinary morning, maybe?

When the alarm clock chimed, I slowly stirred and then, started to whine
It was way too dark and way too early, to get up and about, even with a try
But alas, this poor lass, could not start the complaint process just yet
Since it was, so early and the time, to get up from the comfortable bed

On the way out, there was a shout, just behind me, as I had once again, completely forgot
To take my pre-prepared lunch with me, for you see, I too, sometimes, do have to eat
Then without further ado, I punched the pedal to the metal to hurry myself to the streets
Because today, I had to get in early, like the worm and the birdy, you know that tales plot!

The day still beginning, and I really did not feel like singing, so just listening in
To the radio and the same old tunes, playing each day, when I was on my way
Little though, had I prepped for what awaited me on the log, when trying to find my parking spot
The scene in front of me unfolding, quite the visual spectacle, or so I am telling

Nothing short out of a breath, I suddenly halted on my very taken step
Glaring, gazing, totally amazing and in complete awe, of what it was that I saw
What ever the object up there hovering above in the still dark skies
Could be anything from a flying object to the obviously sun’s shine

What ever it was, is for the viewer of the image or the listener of this tale to decide
Because me, myself, and I am still staring at the very image with my mouth open wide
What ever happened there, in the early morning hours in that very parking lot
Well, it was what it was, and the rest, well, that is a tall tale to be told with a varied plot!

Stormy weather at midnight

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“The storm is the most gorgeous thing you’ll ever see, with the lighting striking across the skies, that is, if you are able to stay safely indoors in a warm house!” Gun Roswell

Stormy weather at midnight

A few minutes past midnight
I got quite the unexpected fright
When suddenly, a flash of bright light
Struck across the now darkened skies

There was no sound to be heard
For long moments the air just seems undisturbed
Then, the loud rumbling shook the earth
As lighting struck each and every nerve

The pouring rain soon followed
Pounding the ground until it was almost hollow
The dog walkers of late tried to follow
The trails now gone, only running on shallow

The weather from the calm and easy 
Had soon turned to something sleazy
What seemed like a nice change of pace 
Had become a totally unpleasant else

For several hours the storm in each corner howled
Like something out of a scary movie it pummelled
The trees  to each direction in the hurricane level winds were pulled
As nature had released it’s forces upon us all in full

After watching the display through the window safe
I had dosed off to a restless sleep in short waves
But as morning light cracked against my eyes
The nature was calm again, without any signs of strife

Flowers and berries, oh my!

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“So many pretty things pop up during the summer season, the nature is unbelievably gorgeous all around!” Gun Roswell

Flowers and berries, oh my!

The pretty white flowers in the corners of the yards
You can walk alongside and get so very far
The endless fields of the flora of the season
What could be a far better reason
Than to venture outdoors and spend a day
In the great outdoors with a worry or care

The berries soon will be popping up 
The garden filled with all kinds in a huff
Just make sure to collect them all 
Before the arrival of the colliding fall
Then you have a supply for the winter long
To eat, bake and then you’ll grow strong!

But even without them fine berries
Just remember, the summer will be ending
Make sure you get out there once in a while
Before sitting inside leaves you in a puddle of bile
The most important thing about the season
Is to enjoy it freely without care or a reason

Farmer in the making?

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“A farmers life for me? I dunno, maybe there’s too much of a city gal in me, to out there, flee?” Gun Roswell 

Farmer in the making?

When once again visiting, the far away but ever so beautiful countryside 
Getting a full and then again, small glimpse, of the great and open wide
Then, there can be only one answer to the how and what, and that, is a great big smile

Then, out of nowhere, a really odd and out of place thought occurs, just like a flash of light
Thinking, thinking, thinking hard, but no, this cannot be right
But, after so much grinding, in my silly old brain I am suddenly finding 
The answer, which me has forever eluded and suddenly clear after all this time

Could it be? Could this be? Could it be, for little ol’ me?
Maybe, just maybe, for me, myself and I, a farmer’s life?

Sunday in the shade

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“Time spent in the shade, is never wasted, so why hesitate?” Gun Roswell

Sunday in the shade

Running away, from the warming sun?
Well, that must have been, some kind of a pun
Since the very long awaited light up there
Was finally out and about in the stratosphere
So why would anyone in their right mind
Want to stay inside a building, or the shade?

Before you get all up and at it and up me chew
First and foremost, just hear my plead why don’t you
Because I have so many legit explanations (excuses)
To point out why I am not out there rather refusing
Any kind of direct sunlight upon my fairest of skins
And hiding inside, the shade if you will

Well, here is one good reason at least
For you see, the sun in my mind is a beast
Which reflects all that shiny white light
And honestly gives me the shivers and fright
As I am more of a nigh person myself
At least that is what I keep telling everyone else

The shadow is a much cooler place
And when one there for a long, long time stays
The mere thought of a sun and fun filled venue
Will rise all kinds of feelings I tell you
I am not made for the light of the sun
Even if that sounds like I am no fun

And to be honest, I prefer staying inside my shell
Being boring as hell, even if not everyone can tell
I also prefer the shade and the slight darkness
At least, the mid greys of the lightness
Rather than exposing myself in the direct light 
Whether it be the sun or just a simple electrical fright

I maybe or may not be one of them kind
Whom the constant spotlight is never fine
But staying inside the shade is not all that bad
So don’t you feel sorry for me or be sad
Just because I am different than the rest
I assure you, I am fine and won’t be a pest!

Nightfall in a blue moment

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“The nature, is always at its quietest and certainly best, come the blue moment before night fall“ Gun Roswell

Nightfall in a blue moment

The sun setting behind the ocean so vast
The earth once again feeling totally flat
The onlookers, in awe, simply admiring that
Which is the most powerful scene staring back

The blue hue descending across the land
Over the ground, water and skies it lands 
Painting all in its wake in a monochromatic shroud
And even in silence, the effect is really loud

There is nothing more to do before morning 
Just watching the spectacle in front unfolding
The brightness turning to blues without yawning 
And eventually into the darkness disappearing 

Boats, ships and other vessels, past their use?

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“Boats of different sizes and shapes, are put to pasture, as they had all their lives slain and now to rest laid” Gun Roswell

Boats, ships and other vessels, past their use?

When the time, has finally come
In which the daily work, is all done
Time to lay to the final rest
Where ever the place suited best
The vessels once sea worthy
Hauled up to the dry land dirty

But this, does not mean the end
No, far from it, even if it sometimes is just pretend
Because being out of their natural element
Does so many other options present
The imagination of refurbishing only limit
Hey, let’s just play on which ever gimmick!

Maybe a home for the artist?
The layout, most likely not the smartest
Still a change of the usual house
Because they wanted something other to be of proud
A flower pot quite large
To the back of the small house’s yard?

Nothing is impossible to pull
Of the re-usage of the vessels smart and dull
It’s just a matter of letting the ideas flow
Put that old boat at the back of the car and haul
What ever the use will be, wait and see
Just make sure to give a new home!

Three times the seat

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“When in need of some rest, take a load of, on the nearest bench “ Gun Roswell

Three times the seat 

The summer holidays, had finally arrived
Shouted out, was a big hoot with some jives
Packing up, all the needed trash
For this, unplanned, quick getaway, in a flash

So now, headed for what ever kind of port
Was ready to accept us, to start this trip of a notice short
Because this thing was certainly going to happen
With or without all that likely crappin’

OK, so after all kinds of back and forth ‘xplaining 
The road trip was finally on the part of landing
The island of ones dreams dead ahead in perfect still
Well, as much seen from a small cockpit window sill

Off and out and into the taxi cab with a shout
Soon enough the accommodation in sight with sign shouting loud
“B and B” for all sizes and kinds
Just come on inside and your place find”

After the slightly drama, when doing all of the unpack
It was finally time, to get up and go out and yes, slack
After all, this was supposed to be. a holiday to the letter so strong
With rest, relaxation, something something and all that jazz all day long

When getting outside, the warm wall hits you in the face
It feels so good, after so many months of living inside the icescapades
In the land way, way up north, where the only transport is a sleigh
Wanting nothing more than to get out of that place

But, the reality soon hit, right smack in that pale face
And the sweat pouring, nay, soaring out each and every pour started
After some moments, when soaked through each and every garment
It was time to get the hell out of the sun and find some shade

Glancing, glaring, staring, all around the heads spinning
Trying to find that one perfect spot, where to sit down on the dot
It was already starting to get really frustrating
The face, neck and body, covered with sweating 

But then, in the corner fo the very eye, which had so much spied
Behind the vail of frustration, even if this was supposed to be the best vacation
A spot in a small cafe, there, in the shades, hidden from the sun
All that remained to do, was to gather some courage and toward it to run

The setup like from a picture perfect 
A table with two seats and a large bench set
Just for us weary touristy types way over their heads
Boy, am I glad this day us here finally had lead!

Seated happily for the rest of the day
Deciding to spend it in this very same place
Ordering food and drinks was so easy as cake
Why the hell would anyone do anything else 

Coffee time, once again!

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“It’s always that time, the time, for coffee, because there is never a “no time” for coffee, am I right?” Gun Roswell

Coffee time, once again!

When the clock, on the dot, beckons
It is that time, the time to reckon
That the one simple fact in life
That there really is nothing more so very fine
Than that, of the first cup of coffee, in the early morning hours
And that last cup, of then exact same stuff, in the late evening after showers
And, yes, yes, I know very well, that it is a tad too much
But if you think about any kind of such
Thing, which you had managed through to get
Without at lest one (read more than five) cups let
You guide through, then I really don’t know you
Because there really is no way
I can any of the daily tasks totally slay
Than with the aid of the finest sustenance ever created
The coffee, coffee, coffee, which was totally for me, made!

Blues for the blue

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“The eternal struggle to keep the blues away, why I ask you, why can’t it simply stay?” Gun Roswell 

Blues for the blue

The feeling, oh so very sad
You feel, like you are just through and through bad
But, there is really no getting mad
As there is no quick or final cure for that

Singing the blues as some poets call it
But does not mean one piece of shit
To those, deeply in the churning throes 
Of that ever and eternally enclosing ditch

But since, the all consuming feeling cannot be ignored
To the point of singing and writing poetry of bored
When all them around you, tone down and start to snore
The best bet is to embrace the blues

And when someone asks or protest of them hues
Just grab a pair and make them walking in your shoes!