Winding Road

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“Like the little red riding hood, I am going through the woods” Gun Roswell

Winding Road

The forest so thick I can hardly see the trees
But never mind, I can, hop skip and squeeze
My way through the thick layer of greens
Until I find my way back, and the ever winding road I see
It’s not too far I don’t mind, as I’m making good time
This place filled with lush green and other critters
Is surprisingly calming, even friendly, without too many jitters
With a hop and a skip, I over the narrow creek leap
Then in the distance, something shining a blue
I think do I dare or would I be a complete fool
But the adventurer wins and so with a song I sing
I start towards the patch of water in the distance
Hoping maybe, it’s a lake or similar and then in an instance
I am there and find, the rarest beach of any kind
Immediately kicking off my shoe and in goes the toe
The liquid so cool and refreshing I am soon undressing
Taking a dip in the soothing lake, before an observation I make
The road ever winding, I have already been finding
As the staring point is right at this very shore
Knowing my way back is secure, I take another round in the water, just to be sure
It’s refreshing alright and soon again, I am on my way, despite
Leaving behind this great place I have come to appreciate
But swearing I’ll be back here, for an other run of this place called nature

Cottage in three

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“Summer fun in so many cottages, it’s getting to a point of annoying really! ” Gun Roswell

Cottage in three

Red, yellow, any other colour, or maybe even painted black
The choices for living, really do not lack
Going around and around, never once looking back
As one, after the other, is so much better, than the last
But, for only one week at the time
Spending, my vacation, nearly, on a dime
Even the weather, is ever so fine


And I surely have no complaints, of all these cottages, oh so divine
Juggling amongst these places, some near, some far
Luckily my rucksack is not weighing, so need for a car
Summer still well spent, even if it wasn’t exactly like I had dreamt
But the experience given me so much more
I can go back to the daily grind without immediately being bored
After all, adventure is part of human nature, with or without fear
And this year, I certainly got plenty for the rest of the year

Mundane Monday in red

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“Mundane Mondays are the best” Gun Roswell

Mundane Monday in red

When the mundane Monday raises its grey and dull head
Why not sprinkle some fun and colour up in the air instead
Maybe put some deep red on an old house
Otherwise sticking out like a sire louse


Even paint the barn door
In the colour most of us adore
And when completed all them upgraded and some leftover paint remains
Head on, to the garden and slap on a coat of smarting
Onto, the tiny windmill, always giving the chill, even warning
When the wind blows or then if it sometimes storms
So, now, definitely going strong
Simply because, red, has the perk on
This mundane Monday, not any more glum
But really starting to be fun!

Secret Door

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“What secrets lie behind door number seven?” Gun Roswell

Secret Door

Ever so slowly
The door opens,
Boldly
Still, sneaking in
Through
The open crack
Not once
Looking back
The odds
Against me stacked
But enthusiasm
I do not lack
Walking through
One step
At the time
For now
I am feelinga
Just fine
Knowing
This place beyond
Will be mine
Breath hitches
As I am finally
Inching
My way through
Quick
Is the beat
Of my very heart
I know now
I should have
Played it smart
But it’s too late
No more do I hesitate
I am finally here
Through the doorway
Through the looking glass
I have
Now passed
And it could not
Be better!

Building blocks

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“Just like Lego’s, the modern houses are built” Gun Roswell

Building blocks

Sometimes, adding plenty of colours so bright
Sometimes, they just stick with plain black and white
Building blocks for modern homes, several stories in height
In just a few weeks time, the parts will be assembled
As soon as the trucks arrive, the workers start to rumble
The barren construction site, soon beginning to resemble
A place for people to live, for a short moment or even longer
A place to call home, with a family, or just alone
The work finally completed, the workers are now seated
Admiring their handy work, taking pride, even if it was just a while
And everything was done, from ready made blocks
Which the companies still have plenty of in stock
And soon enough, another neighborhood will be up
Similar but not quite, to this already built site

Summer’s seat

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“In the tiny garden I sit, until there is snow on the ground” Gun Roswell

Summer’s seat

When the first rays of the summer’s sun appeared
I knew immediately, I could sprint outside without fear
The bright white light burning my retinas at first
But, then I picked up my old fashion shades from dirt
Left them forgotten, discarded under a pile of dust
All through the winter months, since darkness, was a must
Noted the greening and growing grass under my bare feet
The blue skies and the flowers, yeah, I am truly glad to see
Spotting the tiny seat in the corner of the garden so small
Where it had been sitting all along, under the piles of snow
I don’t care if it’s splintered and slightly dirty
As long as I can sit in it without feeling angry
Because today is the first the of the summer life starting
This great time, mostly without bad weather and plowing
So I will be sitting here, spinning all kinds of thoughts in my mind
Until the day that the sun sets for good and it is time
To turn back into the winters dark cave
And sleep, the deep sleep, before another summer saves

Summer expectations

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“There is fantasy and then, there is the harsh reality” Gun Roswell

Summer expectations

Waking up to expectations of gorgeous weather in a beautiful place ahead
But the darkness must have been an omen, as what greeted me instead 
An non-coloured greyish scene, with no natural light, anywhere, to be seen

I blinked once, twice, three times, and then pinched myself, just to be sure of what I saw, this utter vile
In front of my sad eyes now laid, instead of all the fine I had just seen, while lying on the bottom of my soft bed

Enough! I finally said

Had it all really been, a good dream, or a figment of my vivid imagination, a total fantasy, I had seen?
Such marvelous things and places, making ones heart really go to the races
All the colours of the rainbow, hardly any winds there to blow, life going, gently, smoothly and, oh so slow

Closing the curtains, feeling a tad on the side of hurting
I decided to go back to my bed, continue dreaming, until this, season of dread
Was finally over

Turning off the bedside lamp, my eyes tight shut clamped
And then, I, was back, in the place, of eternal summer, I had before of dreamt

Fluffy summers day

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“Fluffy are the clouds and so is the mood, on this, hot summers day” Gun Roswell

Fluffy summers day

Sitting. at the end, of a long pier
Looking. at the clouds, as they appear
Changing, their very shapes, as they slowly drift away

The waters surface calm and blue
Perfectly matching, the sky’s hue
Feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin

Nothing moves, nothings stirs in this moment
It seems, as if the clock, has stopped, all movement
The birds and bees at flight, frozen in mid air

As I close my eyes, I still spy
The world around me, feelings of being free
On this warm and fluffy summers day

Sailing to the sunset

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“Sailing, what a wonderful way of weightlessness” Gun Roswell

Sailing to the sunset

Just like in an old school romantic movie
Trying to get things in my life once again grooving
As I am setting sail and off into the horizon disappearing
Never looking back, not giving the sails any slack
With the wind behind me, pushing forward towards the horizon
I am staring at the sun’s last rays before the moon’s arising

In this image so very quaint
The audiences will surely faint
The dark aura, away fading
As I am gently but surely sailing
Towards the eternal sunset

Summer Rama

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“A panoramic view, of the summer’s hue, how quaint!” Gun Roswell

Summer Rama

Sitting, in the perfect of places
Where the sunshine, and the long summer, always, stays
The temperature, always, perfectly warm but then, cool, at the same time
Which in itself, is a contradiction, but for me, it works really fine

My head, spinning and turning, like the exorcist chicks did, almost one three hundred and sixty degrees
Trying to get in, all the lovely scenery, but, at the same time, feel the warmth of the sun and the cooling breeze
A panoramic photograph, finally done ending up, in my own crocked mind
And then, a little while later, on the great wide web, for all the followers to find

Oh, the Summer Rama!
What would I ever do without ya?