Daily Snaps
“They are well hidden, deep in the forest for none to find, yet here, look, I did find them!” Gun Roswell
As the summer wind softly blows
The delicate white bells glow
From the sunlight’s reflection
You can almost see, the perfection
“A chair fit for a Queen and other Ladies too, well anyone really, so just, take a load off! it’s Sunday after all!” Gun Roswell
“Ah, a cool summer’s breeze
I am possibly ready to sneeze
Better sit down on the bench!”
Said the little old wench
As she tightly held her thighs in a clench
Because that damned sneezing
Made her always queasy
And possibly a little uneasy
As to what might start to trickle
She started to giggle
“Oh, hurry up you old fool
And quickly sit down on that damned stool!”
“Something totally pretty about midsummer, those white flowers everywhere!” Gun Roswell
The flowerbeds’ seed
Looks like weed
But, pretty indeed
Let’s call them
Sauna Flowers
But yeah, you cannot bathe in them
Or can you?
“Is this the end of a vacay? nope, but soon there will be more of the same!” Gun Roswell
Soft, fluffy, made by nature
Concrete, metal, made by creatures
Coming together in an image
A compilation quite vivid
“A game of mini-golf? Well, why not?” Gun Roswell
Summer fun in the near by shopping centre
Bring your mom, dad and even the family spectre
Walk, hike or drive your car
It’s really not that very far
But heed this warning who ever you are:
Once the place of madness you enter
You may end up on a shopping bender
Give away your money and shirt
And later, with a big bill of hurt!
“You gotta try out the museums, plenty of them around the hood!” Gun Roswell
Visiting, a local library or museum
Even, if it’s not so usual for this season
Someone, may call it treason
Retorting, ‘stay outdoors you silly beeson’
But live and learn your history
Other wise you may not have a story!
“You go, check out what’s all around you, close to the home you normally dwell in!” Gun Roswell
It is the time, for playing games
It is the time, for naming names
It is the time, to lay our claims
It is the time, which after nothing remains
Ever the same
This is the summer’s game
“Staying home for a vacation? What a novelty?!?” Gum Roswell
Summer days in suburbia
Might end up in utter hysteria
With neighbours, staring at you
Simply, because there is nothing to do
Rantings Of A Third Kind 
