Time to build a summer cottage by the seashore

The summer still continues, even if it is starting to fall, towards the winter season, simply, green all over, maybe a nature’s treason?” Gun Roswell

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

Green and the rain

“Droplets on the leaves during spring rain” Gun Roswell

A picturesque scene
Setup 
Just for
Darker days and green

Enjoy the pretty things
When the rain drops
When the bird sings
When the bugs hop
Because the spring
Will come to a stop

Pretty in white and green

“The flowers are popping up, must be spring?” Gun Roswell

Little white things
Sprung out with spring
Before the bell could ring
Never knowing
The joy they could bring

Red for spring

“It’s official! Spring is beginning!” Gun Roswell

Tulips, gently swaying, in the warm spring sun
Their colour of the brightest red, indicating fun
Counting down from a multitude to one
Spring time is here: everyone has won!

Tree Tops Green

“It’s spring time now!” Gun Roswell

Where blue and green meet
In a rhythmic windy beat
Where spring’s growth is incomplete
And the weather still in a loss of heat

Just take a seat
Admire the treat
The dance of the trees
In this seasonal breeze

Yellow Things

“It’s yellow so it must be pretty” Gun Roswell

Great things
Always come in threes
Even if you sneeze
You will love these
Little yellow things
Brought by spring

Easter Time is upon!

It’s that time of the spring, the seasonal pairing of the eggs and things!” Gun Roswell

After all the painted eggs and faces
The little witch nervously paces
Out into the wide world
She needs to fly like a bird

Because
For now
Easter time
Is just to follow!
And the witches’ brooms
Cannot be hollow!

Eye, well, it does spy!

“My eyes are getting all crossed from all this spying!” Gun Roswell

I do spy
Behind my protected eye
A man from Shanghai
With a really nice tie
Passing me by
Eating an apple pie
Waving goodbye
As, in a hurry to buy
A ticket to fly
Away to Mumbai

All of this simply, because it had to rhyme!

The fly on the wall

“Just hanging, listening, observing, checking things out” Gun Roswell

I, am a small fly, sitting on the wall
Wall, which from I won’t totally fall
Fall, would be a terrible thing
Thing, as if I would be killed
Killed, to the very death!

I am but a fly on this wall
Wall, observing everything
Everything, and nothing
Nothing, as today’s such a bore
Bore, because I have no sugar!

Ah, sugar, the essence of life
Life, this tiny little fly’s treat
Treat, as in a sugary snack
Snack, as without it I would slack
Slack, well, yes, you know, lazy!

I basically don’t do much
Much, as humans consider such
Such, is the life of a fly
Fly, but now, I really have to fly
So, bye bye!

Flying high?

Ever high up, in a soft huff and slow kind of a puff “ Gun Roswell


Rising high, above the clouds
An exceptional ride I’ve chosen no doubt
A big balloon, fuelled with hot air
Someone else might run away in scare

A hot air balloon, this transport it is called
For without the fire and air, the lift off would have stalled
A giant blob of a ball piercing the tall skies

And in a tiniest of baskets, the passengers are huddled together
Knowing, their life is hanging by very narrow tethers

It’s all cool an fun when you look from below
But rising over the rooftops and clouds above
The perspective changes into a worry of a fall
Soon enough, you’re starting to huff and puff

Looking for a landing spot
From where everything looks like a dot
Finally starting to descend
Thank the deities that, all ended well