“Old school, with paddles, not up the creek but across the lake” Gun Roswell
The boat awaits So better not hesitate As even with a slow boat like this one It’s now or never, Setting the tone to fun Rowing away from the land Well, as far as you can Even if it’s just across the lake
“There is nothing so old, nor useless you cannot recycle for a new usage” Gun Roswell
A boat filled with flowers Was a little too crowded for the rowers So instead, they rode a lawnmower Before the grass grew any taller Yeah, it was a sure surprise For everyone involved
“Just two ships passing each other by, in the very ocean wide” Gun Roswell
It was a calm and hazy early morning, as the two ships emerged without a warning, passing each other close by, as it was planned, but only on the fly. Sailing in from the opposite direction of one and other, only meeting in the middle of the inter section, they hardly had time to meet or even give a proper greet. As simply floating by the other, never touching, only glancing once, maybe twice. But there really was no time to say anything else let alone something nice to the other, as the flow kept on going and there really was no stopping it. A well known fact for both, as they knew that despite their slow motion, it was inevitable for the two of them to meet. But, there was nothing more of an option for them, except this on fleeting moment in time, seeing each other for the first and also last time, as the two slow boats, were just passing each other by, and maybe that was enough, and both of them could be just fine after the chance encounter, perhaps by design.
“Sometimes, life might seem like a dream, while more often times, it just turns out to be, a nightmare, so prepare to – scream!” Gun Roswell
Row, row, row your wee puff-puff boat, Gently down the narrow yet calm stream Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, Life, yeah that ole thing, Might just be, but some kind of a dream!
Well, unless you wake up But better just continue paddling just the same As this might just all be, quite real!
“The bluer is the water, the better is the view, at least from the small sailing ship, making its way across the cool and calming hues“ Gun Roswell
The bluest blue hue of all the blues, shining across the high seas, beckoning for the weary soul, to find their way towards those very inviting waves.
As the hard life on the land is quite hard at least, that is where the blame is laid and so, taking off, the ground so very rough, fleeing to the seas, getting away, way out there where the eyes even can’t see.
“They can only be seen, when the fog gets too thick on the highest of seas, the ghost ships of blue that is” Gun Roswell
They can only be visible, when the seas are filled with the coolest of those solemn hues, the blue fog surrounding the waters and when the visibility is just a few metres. It is then when the ships appear, to their special spots all over the waters edge. In the colour of blue they are shrouded, and appearing there without any passengers allowed on board them. They are the ghost of the past and the future. Not of us, but only themselves, those many ships which had sunken without any kind of trace off of the face of the world and into the deep abyss hurled. This is not to scare anyone with their presence, only acting as a reminder of the dangers, of putting too much trust in clear blue skies and calm waters, and not taking enough precautions. For the sea is not a safe place for the unprepared, by two always remember to make safety first. But if you happen to spot those blue coloured ghostly vessels, well, better err on the side of caution and stay out of the water, at least, for that day.
“The house just on the corner there, is painted in red, how nice!!” Gun Roswell
The old-style house on the hill Against the back drop it just chills Never mind the construction It has always avoided destruction Sitting so pretty, in another wise (shitty) New style concrete block environment The red house is surely gets its adornment
A contrast, built to forever last (Maybe some fixing needed, the owner admits) But so cute, so rare It must be spared! The tiny red house on the hill with a mouse And in this image still, it looks like the house Made for Jack and Jill (or Juliet and Jill or Jack and Gill, which ever you prefer) For everyone really, in it to chill So, come on in, have a coffee They even server baked muffins with toffee!
“The colour is pink, yes indeed, even the window is reflecting the same true colour, the one of pink” Gun Roswell
Yesterdays reflected From old discarded windows An old shack Once painted black Now boasting, the colour pink It’s an eye sore some say But others, smile and In front of it for a moment stay It’s not useful anymore Who knows what secrets Within it are stored But for now, the windows And the doors Remain locked of course And maybe someday You may find the key Which unlocks them all
“Nothing like counting down from start to finish, from Monday to, well Friday, cause the weekend doesn’t really count, right?!” Gun Roswell
No matter if you are travelling or at home There is always something mundane going on During the first day of the week You might not always really find what you seek But look around what the world of mundane will bring You may be surprised of the same old things Look so much different depending of the mood or light Some of them coming finally to life There is art where you least expect it to be adored Just grab your camera and a new attitude and go to explore It may be Monday, that one specific day We all love so much to hate, well, at least of it debate Just call it the beginning of an interesting week to enjoy Because Friday will get here sooner than you have time to shout: “Ahoy!”