Open the Stargate!

“That looks like a gateway to the past” Gun Roswell

The gateway on to the
Beach appeared, out of nowhere, in a
Flash of light, it was

Standing there, where nothing before
It existed. Now it is open wide
For anyone to enter, if you

Really dare, then take a
Leap and jump back in time into
The past of all time

Just remember, you may not
Get back, but that is a risk
Well worth taking, so stop

Your shaking and take the
Step, one small step for mankind and
Who knows what you’ll find

Calm is the Red Sunrise


“From the busy streets, towards the calm beach, that is the goal in life” Gun Roswell


I see the image in my very mind, it’s something unique, someplace to unwind
The colours changing now, from green to a coolest blue, some kind of hue
But then, like a sharpened photograph, everything is in my grasp.
The shining sun, rising high above, the breeze so low, the pace so slow
The turquoise waters glimmering, I wish I could swim in them

I run as fast as I can, then on to the sandy beach I land
At this point I don’t care if it is a dream or someone’s bad joke or scheme
I shed my clothing, boots and all, and into to the soft waves I let myself fall
Getting carried away to the wide open seas, where nothing and no one else do I see
Only sounds made are those of seagulls, flying high above my skull

This is bliss, this is calm, this is what I seek, this is what I want
And then, I wake up, as the car beside me honks

“Move it of lose it bozo!” I hear

Yes, I am back in the noisy street I fear
Until next time, when I dare to dream
As life never really is what it seems

Scenic Scenes from Dawn till Dusk and all around


“The traveller never gets sick of looking at the vistas of foreign lands, I definitely don’t and looking back at all the pictures taken, I revisit all those places“ Gun Roswell


The days of sunny and warm
Spent around the old ruins just after dawn
Much to see and plenty to do
Especially as the day is getting hotter after noon

But for the enthusiastic traveller 
There is really nothing to complain rather
Enjoying the new vistas and the history
Of this place with plenty of stories

And, if you are planning to stay awake
Until the late of the event filled day 
Make sure to make your way to the beach
Or basically any open area seat

As the spectacle of the evening 
Is at that time about to begin
The sun setting over the open waters
There is really nothing to compare!

So keep on travelling, to strange new places
If only in your mind or in a virtual space
There is nothing more eye opening 
When out of your comfort zone staying

Beach season is open


“The beach, is empty? What is going on?” Gun Roswell
 
 Finding an empty sun bed
 On this tine beach end
 Did not seem so difficult today
 What a pleasant surprise, I said 
 As I hauled my weary ass
 Off from the green grass
 
 Into the middle of the sandy beach
 Choosing the best seat
 Laying my fat tired head
 On to the sunny side bed
 Finally enjoying the peace and quiet
 As long as anyone will me let

Yellowish?

“Something in yellow perhaps? It’s a rather pretty colour” Gun Roswell

yellowish

In the summery days mellow
Wild flowers of yellow
Growing strong by the curve
So watch carefully where you swerve!

Taverns and a few Restaurants


“There are lots of dive bars all around for a quick drink, but the there are those places you can spend several hours in, having a good time, with food and fine wine” Gun Roswell


A short stroll in the heat of summer
Looking for a place to recover
Taverns and restaurants beckoning
A cold drink for thirst lessening

I see, Red?

“Red is a pretty colour, true. Perhaps a tad on the nose, but yeah, pretty!” Gun Roswell

red


“I see red”
Said Ted
As toward the shed
Painted red
He quickly fled

Unfortunately
A fence,
Also, painted red
Made his trek
Short instead

A Day spent in Nature

“Nature can be most gorgeous, or dangerous, but more so, gorgeous” Gun Roswell

Sitting on a swing
Not worrying about a thing
Enjoying the simple life
Without a stinger or a strife
The air almost like silk
Time slowly passing by
Not one trouble in sight

Observing, watching, looking
What is nearby cooking

The hedgehog sipping it’s milk
The squirrel with it’s tail high
A bird gliding in mid flight
The flowers in the wind crooking

The clouds hanging softly in the sky
Exhaling, letting out a sigh
The last rays of sun on the skin
What a perfect fin
For a July summer’s day
The grass in a gentle sway

A Sunday at the Beach


“A calm, cloudy, and rather sunny Sunday (surprise!) what a contradiction indeed! As usually, when Sunday arrives, so does the cold weather and the rain, right?!” Gun Roswell

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

Why not build a summer cottage by the seashore

The tiny wooden made shack, by the seashore stands, sideways slacked
It’s really not much to look at, just a few odd planks together stacked
But for the one that built it, this little house, might just be, the perfect fit
A summer’s cottage, or a simple, almost a tent type thing, on the beach sits

Alas, the rough and unforgiving autumn winds soon will fall
Upon each and every single plane, even up, to this remote shore
If the tiny summer cottage will the beating of weather’s wrath survive 
Then come next spring, the dweller will have a place to return just fine

But, until that time, the sun will still shine
The clear blue waters and even the skies
Will be totally able to provide
The needed light and warmth to get by
Here in the tiny beach house, oh so divine