Sunset Tower

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“The rays of the setting sun hitting just the right spots, sending the rounded metal burning“ Gun Roswell

Sunset Tower

Red like a fire engines head, the burning fire of the setting sun reflected on the metallic surface

The man made object, the towering height coming to life only at this hour by the very light

Of the one object hanging high up in the skies during the days, but as the night falls it too to rest lays

But not before sending it’s shiny beams one last time across space and skies to land onto the metallic tower making it open up like a flower only not of nature

Spiky and Rough

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“It’s a defence mechanism for sure, but there is a certain lure to it.“ Gun Roswell

Spiky and Rough

The colours surely so appealing, the lush green, with a hint of neon feeling

But the spikes there, makes the smooth surface look so rough

Still, there is a certain urge emerging from deep inside, wanting to touch

As would it really hurt so much?

The danger there certainly so alluring, even if the brain is otherwise assuring

This is a no-no, for sure, not to be touched only admired form a far despite the very lure

And so, standing there, hypnotised, the hands kept in place by mere force of the will

The power from within, but I still want to touch even if it will end with an ouch 

Snow fall

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“Sometimes snow falls, onto the tall branches out there in the forest, where it’s all quiet” Gun Roswell 

Snow fall

The perks of winter, getting a new kind of wardrobe, at least over nature, covered all in the fluffy material, called snow, and just for show, it made its way all over and everywhere, not one single spot having been soared.

Deep in the forest, trees of the tallest too had their fair share of the snowy fall, together building a temporary but still solid wall, at least a visual one as it wasn’t impenetrable after all, simply there because and getting through becoming a sport of sorts.

Those athletic types skiing through them all, making more snow fall in their wake, but luckily the softness albeit cold and damp, never hurting those properly clad.

Red Cherries ready for the picking

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“The red against the green is a contrast indeed.” Gun Roswell

Red Cherries ready for the picking

Bright red and delicious, so totally lickable and precious

The cherries hanging from the branch, ready to the picking before March

And so this may be the start of a great harvest

Even if it might be way before its ready time

But these days, reading the calendar, is kind of a hassle

As the world around has become upside down and you would think we’re living in Brazil

Still, enjoy the small bounties found all year round

And eat them, with the red cherry on the top

Para Sol

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“The sun is shining, and isn’t that just special, so why does everyone want to stay under covers?Away from the sun?“ Gun Roswell

Para Sol

The shade of it all, well, the shade to run for cover under, from the, you know, the sun?

Well, simply because sometimes, you need to hide, from the very light, which, supposedly, sustains life itself, and isn’t that a contradiction if anything else.

The darkened corners of the world, suiting better for the quite fowl mood, becoming the existence, which fears the light of day, especially a very bright, hot, burning sun filled one.

And so, the cover, the parasol large enough, to hide under permanently or at least until such time, all of it passes and the option, of coming forth, stepping into the spotlight, is upon.

Dull grey day – not!

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“All them shades of grey across the skies reflected on top of the water’s surface, what seems like a dull day, it is not that anyway” Gun Roswell

Dull grey day – not!

The view presented when looking out the window seemingly dreary and dull

Rivalling only to the internal feeling of being numb and null

But, when you get right down to it, the nitty gritty, feeling itchy

The good kind of a way, and then wanting inside of the house stay?

No longer an option as the adventurer its head once again will raise

And so, taking the chance of something being out there better 

Heading out the door and into nature

Hello grey! Here to slay so reel me in for something special!

Sunset by the Lake

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“Sunset by the lake, taking a slow boat across the moat, just to watch the spectacle” Gun Roswell

Sunset by the Lake

It’s no fake, the setting sun playing, the vivid colours laying all across the sky and land

It’s that time of the day, the setting of the sun at hand

Folks gathered from both near and far, just to have a glimpse of the spectacle, observing with mouths ajar
Those daring, will try to reach the sun and the sky, before it’s too late

Slipping in their boats across the large size moat of a lake, without time to hesitate

Rowing, rowing, rowing their tiny hearts away, just to bask in the display

Sun and the Yellow

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“The early morning sun, bright yellow, yeah, looks like a lot of fun” Gun Roswell

Sun and the Yellow

The sea as calm as balm, the water’s surface unmoving, only cover is the colour of yellow, spreading across from the skies, reflected over the water until reaching land, where it will be halting for a moment, until it reaches the faces of those onlookers, having gathered to embrace the light of the yellowish globe, which always gives them hope for the upon coming day, before the need to head to their work and their days pay earn, maybe something even learn, that the sun is always rising, no matter what.

Sun and the Winter

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“The sun is shining, on a cold winter’s day, the people out running, leaving tracks in their wake.” Gun Roswell

Sun and the Winter

The longer day upon, the sun above oh so strong, as tracks to be laid, even if no one particularly for them paid, still, need to go and get out there, to do my share, skiing, walking, whatever the means, them tracks are gonna be laid out on the snowy ground with ease, as long as the snow is there and the weather below zero fares, and so heading towards the shores, to do my fair share of the chores, laying them damned tracks for sure.

Step onto the icy creek

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“Winter has taken over the land, the water and the trees“ Gun Roswell

Step onto the icy creek

The fluffy white scene when stepping out the door, into the nature around, the forest soon to be found, the same stuff all over hanging like fluff, as if glued by tiny hands, each strand, sticking onto the surface where it did land.

Even the eternal running waters, the creek, just near the border, is frozen over, solid ice covering the once nice sound of music there would play, as the pouring liquids hit the small rocks and whatever else was on their way.

But no worries, slap on a pair, of skates if you prefer and then slide across the frozen surface, pretend you are a prince or princess or whatever else you may just want to be, as in this gorgeous sugary winter’s scene, you can be all those things.