Façades (4)

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“Always keeping up the facade” Gun Roswell

Façades (4)

A messy situation

When the summer arrives
Rest assured, there will be some vibes
And not the good kind you’ll see
As all the streets as torn in to pieces

There are pipes or cables to be laid
The tram routes to be straightened
Something else, which I just now cannot think of
But surely, there is no corner, not ripped off

The busy city centre streets in summer
There is only one word to describe it: Bummer!
But somehow we, the dwellers, still manage
To run, walk and shop, around in the messy facades, as we have lots of courage

Façades (3)

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“Always keeping up the facade” Gun Roswell

Façades (3)

A clean build

A tall, very old building in the middle, of the street corner
It was built there, just a little before, the starting of the very old wars
It has seen it’s share of things, witnessed many changes
But never, not even once, has it given up, it’s really greatly maintained facade
Pristine, clean, cool, clear, nothing to hide, nothing to fear
It may look rather majestic, but the essence, is pretty simplistic
Take a look, take an picture, it does not mind
As long as you leave, in silence and peace and leave, nothing of yourself behind

Façades (2)

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“Always keeping up the facade” Gun Roswell

Façades (2)

Blue on blue

Fading, into the bluest of skies
Is, the towering building, ever so high
It’s cool exterior is quite the facade
And whom ever designed it, was quite adverse with the arts
So many floors, so many windows
As to whom lives there, no one really knows
You can go in and find out
By knocking on each door or even shout
“Who are you people living in this cool house?”
And maybe, someone will respond or maybe not
But if you really like the looks of the building
Then maybe, you can try to move in

Façades (1)

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“Always keeping up the facade” Gun Roswell

Façades (1)

Yellow and black on the top

The importance to keep up the good facade
Every season, changing the colour of the house
But keeping up with the camouflage
Is proving to be quite an art
Yellow is a great choice for summer
But the white or light grey is more of a bummer
When preparing for the upon coming winter time
And then there is the dark period
Which may lead the house to rot
But be prepared to paint it quickly
Before the rain and wind start sticking
To the walls and doors, even through the floors
A darkish hue, is the most likely clue
To protect the facade from the elements
Until its time to jump into the greater events

Secure Path

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“A secured way to go, just take it slow” Gun Roswell

Secure Path

Completely covered from all sides
The path always narrow, never too wide
Walking ever upwards, towards the goal
But never in a hurry, always taking it slow

The path so secure there is no worries
Of slipping, sliding or even any enemies
But if outside of the borders daring to venture
Then most likely, you’ll be liable for a dent or two

When finally at the end
Take a long, long look back, on the time spent
On this path so secure
You can only, be sure
That nothing, in life, is as good or safe

Throwback Thursday 2

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“It’s that time of the week, the time for a throwback, waaaay back!” Gun Roswell

Throwback Thursday 1-2

Blemish and wrinkle free

Ah! I just love those photogenic filters!
What marvelous are them inventions!
The end result, always so slim and fit
Never, ever wrinkly, and certainly not, looking like shit!
Maybe even add a touch of monochrome
And, voila, you really got a great tone!

Summer, summer, where art thou summer?

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“Summer, should be I think, as the calendar says, “July”, but why is it snowing?” Gun Roswell

Summer, summer, where art thou summer?

When the month of July is upon
You start, to really hard, to wonder on
As to where the summer has gone

It did not appear at all this year
And then you already start to fear
As the winter season slowly but surely grows near

It’s not so warm as you might have expected
But if you look close enough, you can something detect
A ray of light, on to the waters edge reflected

Maybe there is still hope after all
Before the coming of a complete fall
Despite the weather so gloomy and dulll
At least it’s not as freezing cold
Even if the weather forecast hail showed
And it’s above the freezing point or so

Summer in the month of July
Sometimes it’s good sometimes, just fine
But there is really no denying:
It could be worse, as we could have snow

On the Top

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“So high, it’s piercing the skies” Gun Roswell

On the Top

It’s so high, it is reaching the tallest sky
The towering clock, which will never, ever stop
And, a cross on the top, to be on the safer side of things
Because, you’ll never know, what forces may be lurking
From their hide, maybe even flanking from all sides
Alas, the tower is secure, no matter what will lure

On the top, is the place to be
On the top, everywhere you see
On the top, no where left to go
On the top, never the time to take it slow
On the top, the only way is down
On the top, but maybe, you can reach for the clouds

Two Tools

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“You’ll always need at least two tools” Gun Roswell

Two Tools

A shovel and an old school bike
Two tools, you may need for work
Or even, if you plan to go on a strike
Useful things with which you’ll never falter
Even if your life may drastically alter

It is fun peddling to any near of far location
And if you need a tool or a weapon
The shovel will be handy in any occasion

Old school useful things are the best
No need for electricity or other kind of stress
Use them both wisely, never have to think twice
And as you down the road with you bike and shovel rush
Everyone will wave and maybe get a few smiles

Summer Sunday at the Beach

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“A calm, cloudy, and sunny Sunday, what a contradiction indeed!” Gun Roswell

Summer Sunday at the Beach

When the Sunday time, loudly, its present chimed
We ran, like we were on fire, out there, from the dire
Into the open wild nature, with colours so lush
There really was no need for any kind of rush
To enjoy the art work devised by our beloved Mother Nature
Was there for everyone to see, without any kind of fee

But we ran, as fast as any one can, really
For you see, there was somewhere else we wanted to be, really
Beside the calm and cooling waters, fooling around like a bunch of sea otters
We made our way, discarding all clothing, falling where ever they may
Splashing into the soft waves, letting the healing waters save
Ourselves in the process, as this was the place for us, the total bliss

We played and frolicked, until the darkness descended we stayed
Then only, reaching for the softest of sands, lending each other a hand
To find the discarded garments, a little dirty, maybe even sandy, was a mild statement
But nobody cared, as it had all been time so well spent
Out here, on the beach, on this summer’s Sunday we had reached
And if we were to be lucky, maybe next weekend, we could come back again