The moon is monochrome

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“The night or the day, no matter which way you decide to cypher it, the moon is out there, hanging above even if somewhat dimly lit“ Gun Roswell 


The moon was out, hanging above in the clear blue sky, nothing there to spy, not really, but it could have as easily have been in the middle of the night, as the light, was so dim.

Either because of the timing, being that of summer, the day never ending, and so day or night, all the same, as the sun and moon together keeps on spinning.

Or then, it was the day of a ver dark and dreary autumn month, the shades blurring in together, to each other, the shadow, the light, all the grey shades of neither and then both, the monochrome, the noir, all of it one simple colour.

Whatever it is you see up there with your own bare eyes, is the truth, whether the sky is blue, or pitch black dark, the moon is always there, looking mighty smart.

Red Sunset

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“The time of the year when the sun will fear the coming of winter, laying low during the day and even when setting” Gun Roswell


End of the day will come no matter the times. 

It can be a little later or even earlier depending on the seasonal chime.

For the late autumn or fall, the light of the day will try to stall.

But never winning against the night the darkness soon upon.

The sun though never faltering its stance no matter the dance.

Late in the year or early in the hours of the new morn’.

Paradise lost and found?

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It was just covered with frost
In the end of a very long autumn
This was what it cost
To get back from the bottom

Paradise,
It was never lost
It was, just forgotten

Got blues?

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Autumn descended, over the land of green
The colours still vibrant, more gorgeous than ever seen
But, the one constant shade, in this, all
Whether winter, spring, summer of even fall
Is the one, of the coolest and deepest, of blues
Still, hovering, over the stormy seas, as the one true hue
The solemn colour of decor, clothing or even the mind
When the world around you, has not been, that kind

Alas, being blue, singing the blues, is not as bad as you may think
Especially, when reflecting the calm hue, over that kitchen sink
It is a reminder, of those warm and sunny lazy summer days
Where the time by the seashores of the more, were spent in a daze
Now, reminiscing, those nostalgic times, some bad some just fine
Some of them even spent, by the waters edge, sipping, cheap wine
So, if you now, decide to spend your time, in all the blues
Then hey, there are always silver linings, to each and every colour’s hue!

Fall is upon

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Roaming around the Hood
Because the weather was really good
Clouds floating in the blue sky
Wishing if only I could fly
The sun warm on my skin
Melting the coldest of Finns
Colours burning bright
Ideas taking flight
Snap, click, snap, click
Hoping to score some great pics
So here they are
I didn’t walk too far
But still got a great bunch
In a time it takes to have lunch

Colourful seat Sunday

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“The colours simply inviting, to take a seat, even if it might be, in the middle of a busy street“ Gun Roswell

The streets of the small city, not really something too giddy, simply a stop on a route of a larger tour, trying to pack in as much to see as possible

But, the quaint and colourful respites all around the city’s streets, might just peek, the curiosity, to either find more of them, or then, to simply take a load off, after all, the tour is rather tough

Whether you will find more of these seats, spread across the many and narrow streets, rest assured, those snaps you might just have clicked, will be the source of plenty of likes, perhaps on the internets, or simply at a long evening’s travel recap

It rains in August?

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The light droplets of rain
Falling onto the open plane
The air cool and crisp
The wind but a wisp
The nature lush and green
Everything new and clean

The sun shines through

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Today something strange happened
Leaving most of us quite baffled
Something called “the sun” appeared
With its striking rays all of the sky smeared
Out from our caves we emerged
Rubbing our eyes in an urge

The sun boss, the sun!
Someone shouted
It was no pun
Even though doubted

There had been many a tales
Like someone seeing the whales
Of such oddities happening before
But never ever in the wildest dreams
Would we hoped to have scored
Or so it seems

Now, bearing witness
To this unusual event
The sun really existing
Like an early Christmas present

The darkening skies

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The light disappearing
Behind the dark curtain
All eyes are tearing
Afraid of a hurting
Is the sky falling down
On this little town
The ever present ancient fear
Of the light bearing sphere
To be swallowed by the beast
All of us be ceased
Huddling closer together
Hoping it’s just the weather
Playing tricks on us fools