Some kind of sunset

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“The sun is setting and I am letting, my hair hang down, after all, time too, will stall “ Gun Roswell

Some kind of sunset

It’s not very often, one really gets, to the state of that simple awe
But today, that totally happened, simply, from what I out there, saw
The countryside, the fields, the very open wide, of the high skies
All covered in rays of various blues, oranges, purples, reds and yellows
Making you want to stop and stare and shout out, really loud a “hello!”
This unexpected and odd effect, especially, during the time, of the year
When all is dark and there is nothing there, except maybe, the fear
That the sun will never, ever again turn up, and light our darkened way
But today, it was a special kind of a treat, where the feeling of defeat
And against all the odds and the grey and dull, was lifted for a moment
As if the nature, wanted, us, the dwellers of earth, get out of torment
Then, with a show so spectacular, painted the colours, across the sky
Before retreating, once again, and leaving us, the earth and all, behind

Sunday at the Beach

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“Nothing better, like a day at the beach, laying lazily, on a padded seat“ Gun Roswell

Sunday at the Beach

Sundays, really are the best days, forget all them days rest
As this is the one day, you can do what ever you may
Without too much of a thought, when acting like a sloth
Trying not too much to worry, about the next day, being sorry
That during, nothing got done and only having some needed fun
But hey, do not worry, as what is, but one single day off
And then, letting your hair hang loose, and not needing to choose
Whether a loose pair of the flip flops, are ´totally a proper pair
Of some kind of everywhere kind of accepted footwear
So, be, that one and total fool, and go and play it really cool
And head out to the that one special place, where there is no doubt
You can just be, the one being, without actually been seen
As a total jackass, for not always, working off their own ass
Relax, enjoy, your worries off deploy and take a load off
For today is that one day of a Sunday, and don’t need to show off

Call me, Mrs Claus

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“Santa has it great. I buy all the toys. He gets all the credit.”

Call me, Mrs Claus

You may call me, Mrs Claus
Without applause
Doing my bid
Without one single payment of a quid
Yuletide
Without this, proud bride
Of Santa Claus
Would be, just empty banter
No kind of jolly
Or celebration folly
Neither for me
Or even, for you

A Visit, up there, to the North Pole

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“O, how glorious would it be to set my heel upon the Pole and turn myself 360 degrees in a second!”
Joseph Banks

A Visit, up there, to the North Pole

A quick trip
To the North Pole
A little hop and skip
To the beat of the drum roll

The elves busy at work
Their faces in a permanent smirk
No time for breaks or coffee
Not even a little toffee

The holiday season is upon us
Which has caused all the fuss
Be careful where you step though
You may end up in a pile of snow

Santa’s sleigh
Without delay
Flying over the river
Presents to deliver

Hitch a ride
In a blink of an eye
You’ll be landing
At the front door standing

Was it a dream
So it would seem
But then again
Life is but a dream

Travel to the Farm

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“There is just something, of so much fun, when getting to the countryside, to get undone “
Gun Roswell

Travel to the Farm

The day ahead, looking really good, from this, bigger size town shed
When packing up the car, with food, proper clothing and even a tent
Because today, the country side beckoned, for a quite memorable event
Even if this was something, done quite often, despite a lot of time there spent

The drive, went pretty fast, as the farm, was not that far, just down the road
But never the less, getting there, with even all the prepare, was never a bore
As all the small and big things waiting there, were not just the country fair
But a whole plethora of exiting stuff, this town group could not get off enough

Animals, of various types, some of the soft and cuddly, some more scary types
With large horns sticking from their sides, or maybe just thinking of the large vehicles
Such as tractors on the open fields plowing and doing what ever needed doing
And to these city folk, this was always so exotic, that you would like to get there stuck

The portal

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“Step into the portal, open wide, and into, the adventure, of your life” Gun Roswell

The portal

When the portal opens, feel free, to step inside, and take a short ride, to the great unknown, and let your mind, be totally blown. Because once you are onboard, there is no single world out there, you cannot visit. And even if the trip seems most of the times quite dizzy, do not dare to stop and get off, but rather make it, to the very end, as the time in there spent, on this merry go round of a thing, you won’t have missed one precious minute, when the fare is finally over. It’s just like you had started and never even parted, your original destination, still, the accumulation, of experience and memory, is all saved, inside your head, for future reference, or when you will dream, in your bed. The portal, is now closing, but look around, maybe another one, a portal with an adventure, soon enough, can be found.

Standing tall, no matter what

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“Do not forget your history, as it will always keep on, repeating” Gun Roswell

Standing tall, no matter what

Monumentally so, the history ancient and even more recent, keeps on living, in the books, in the movies, even in our very minds, but most of all, it is still strong, out there, in the fields, on the mountains, beneath our very own feet, just look, you really don’t have to long seek. So, so many good and bad reminders, of our own past, but hey, you always take them, as a package, even if with a loud gasp.

All the tall structures, built strong and proudly, to forever last, by our ancestors, without too many tools or even plaster. Some of the structures, still standing, after all the years passing by, laid out on the planes or even elevated high. Despite the weather, the living creatures and nature growing all around, they were meant to last, even if struggling to survive, all those piles, because those are what they mostly are, will remain, long after, all of us, have left.

Waters Edge, on a Sunny Day

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“As the elements of nature you see, water, might just be, the most fun of them, in my opinion” Gun Roswell

Waters Edge, on a Sunny Day

The calming and totally inviting cool blue hues reflected, across the palette of each and every single surface
Beckoned, this, very weary, disbelieved traveller, whom itself had neglected, to take a break without disturbance
The empty banks, which the beginning of the seaside flanked, were a canvas for the imagination now blank
There was no hurry or worry, to do anything else, but to sit down on to the swells, where the rocky terrain dwelled
Then letting the thoughts fly, towards the eternal skies, carrying them off to others spheres up there, high
After all, this time alone, was removed from the continuum, the moment frozen, from any of the other dozen
This, it was the perfect place, to let go any and all hesitate, and simply be, and the surroundings to see
As nothing else really mattered now, only the scenic picture in front and how, special the feeling of simply here being
Amongst the elements, the water, the land, the sky and never asking the why, because this, was the perfect life

A cats profile

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“As cute as that can be, must have a great profile too for all to see“ Gun Roswell

A cats profile

A quite cute and totally sassy cat
On the tallest of tables, silently sat
Like some kind, of a cherished statue
From our very own past at that
The historical kind of an artefact

But no matter, how much of a purfect
The fur, the face, and the actual stance
Surely, it was that one very simple fact
That the cute profile, even from a glance
Was surely, that of a goddess, to last

Alas, the quite cute, sassy cat, who sat
Did, not really, much care, of all of that
But, just wanting to be, so worshiped
Like some pretty flower, that of a tulip
And with that kind of a totally great profile
Who would, not want to do that, and smile

Under, the palm tree leaves, I sleep

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“It is, a different kind of fun, hanging there, under, the bright sun, but then again, I don’t like to run”
Gun Roswell

Under, the palm tree leaves, I sleep

The warm winds, gently, heaved, above me, in the tall palm tree leaves
As I laid under there, in the dark shadows, looking up, only to see
The sunshine, now curiously peeking, as if for something, it had to seek
Or then it was just me, being, once again, that one special kind of a geek
As I was conjuring up, all kinds of scenarios, where the very sun, was a being
From another world, with an agenda, and some sort of a ransom, and then chasing
All us, lowly humans, here, on the planet Earth and because of just that, making
Us, to go to permanent hiding, from those ever vigilant and ever searching
Rays so brightly lit, it was becoming more and more difficult, in the shadows to fit
But, for me, the gentle, caring and soft cover, of the tall and ever green
Palm of a tree, provided all the cool shelter, I could possibly ever need