Three times winter’s sun

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“Let there be light”

A brightly glowing round light in the afternoon skies, caught my curious little eyes, as through the window blinds I tried to spy, at a bird high up towards the clouds trying to fly

It was a wondrous sight, which almost gave me a fright, at first glance looking outside, as it had been dark for so long in my mind, i had already forgotten this marvel in my blackened plight

As I kept staring, at the light so glaring I felt my insides flare, feeling the warmth inside and out, leaving me no further doubt, that I and my kind, had been saved from the winter’s grind and could be expecting life, to turn up brigt each day from now on, as the sun would grow more strong

But alas today was not yet the day, as the setting sun would now display, the days would keep getting lighter, as the sun was being the champion fighter, but enduring the harshness and the cold for a little while longer, was easier now, after getting a dose of the bolder brought by the shining globe

Simply Red and then Buried

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“They were fresh, at least for a while there, until the snow fell, then they got lost, buried until spring.” Gun Roswell

Red as were the berries
In the newly fallen snow
Got totally buried

Blue is a Moment

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“It’s okay to be blue, at least on Mondays, in November.” Gun Roswell

Sky, water and horizon
Even the distant island
Cannot resist the moment
The moment of blue

The Blue Wheel of Light

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“The glowing blue wheel brightening the darkest of nights“ Gun Roswell

The blue against the black, against the backdrop of the darkened night sky, the wheel of somewhat fun, but also, the wheel of hope, at least for those, whom are in the total darkness lost, bringing light ever so far, and so bringing the hope, for them to find a way home, having stumbled in the long night for so long, their feet, none too strong, but as soon as the wheel is to be seen, they too know,  not all is for good lost.

A fitting transport for a Mundane Monday 

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“Choose and pick, which ever you may fancy!” Gun Roswell

Taking the tram to work :

As in a tram, you can calmly sit down and even have a ham
No need for steering, for peddling for even discussion of any kind, if you so decide
Just sit and enjoy, the ever changing scenery, and when you are ready to jump of, shout ahoy
Or then, just push the red stop button, instead!

Monday Travel

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“So, we meet again! My dearest, not! Monday! Why can’t you be gone already?” Gun Roswell

Monochromatic
It’s really electric
Even with only a few colours
You can smell the odours
Of the world of greys
Where all the light
And even shadows stay

Monochromatic
Is the world often seen
But even the plain shades
From white to all the greys
The nuances are there
You just need to stare
And up they pop, in your face

Monochromatic
I am getting quite ecstatic
The dance of light
And the bass of shadow
Never me fail
Just letting it all go
The bright colours
Do not bother me anymore

The Triptych

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“It’s an architectural puzzle” Gun Roswell

Not saving any ink
Painted pink
The house stands tall
Winter, Spring, Summer and fall
In the harbour
From port to starboard

Moon Above

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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.

Green and then some!

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“Summer is here and so is all the green popping out, was there ever any doubt” Gun Roswell 

The green on the trees, the bushes, everywhere seen and even allowing the flowers to use their stem colour, as green, naturally.

But it’s not just the lush green, pretty as seen, but also a great cover, a camouflage of the highest caliber, as provided by Mother Nature herself.

The privacy curtain, certainly not hurting, the dwellers living beyond, the green wall, standing strong, against every kind of peeping Tammy or Tom.

But the most important thing, is not the cover or the wall, rather the fact that it’s summer and all that green, makes the air fresher and more easy to breathe.

An alien construct perhaps?

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“The unicoloured monochromatic construct reaching for the dark skies… could this be built by ancient aliens or simply futuristic humans?“ Gun Roswell

Touching the sky, ever so lightly, and perhaps because of that it is radiating the brightest of lights, even with the material concrete, but it is no more or no less illuminating, reflecting ever so softly, all that pretty light from the above skies.

Some say, it was built by ancients from the very past, built so it would last the testament of time, while others claim in one loud chime, that it just popped up there only yesterday like child’s play, but it does not really matter when or whom it was which structured the building, not painted or guilds, as it certainly is a beacon for us all, standing ever so tall.

So, what remains for us mere mortals to do, is to simply look up and this construct adore, give it the adoration it deserves and bask, bask away in the guiding light as it all blurs, into the surrounding neighbourhood.