Frozen, solid, and preserved over the winter

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“Think of it, as some sort of cryogenic freezing, and that it will wake up, in Spring” Gun Roswell

Frozen, solid, and preserved over the winter

The process so untechnical, involving only the elements natural, the freezing process quite solid in use by nature. And now, the just recently fully blooming plant, was frozen solid where it stands.It is almost as if being preserved for the more warmer, gentler season, hopefully soon, on the rising.

The crystallised form, standing solid and strong even now, glittering in the light of the wintry sun with a strong glow. But be careful, don’t get too close and not to touch it, as it might break, and that would a huge mistake. So, be gentle, and only admire from a far, like the above shinning stars, as that which nature has put in a suspended state, will only come to life again, for those who care to wait.

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

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

Go to Paris; in a virtual narrative

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“There is nothing more nostalgic, than perusing down the memory lane, I the form of old travel pictures of days now gone“ Gun Roswell

Go to Paris; in a virtual narrative

The busiest of streets, of the quite big metropolis, are never, ever dull
The markets and shops, the bars, and even cafes, always, packed full
At least, so it totally seems, in those very colourful snaps, of before
When travelling, to distant and foreign lands, was not, such a chore

Alas, the sights and sounds alone, are well worth the total of this short trip
To one of the best known cities, that of bright lights, some of us call, well, Paris
Even if it is, just in the faded memory, of this traveller, now home bound
There are still lots of thrills and quite joyful moments, there, to be found

Taking a virtual tour, of the times strolling on some afternoon by the shore
And alongside the long river banks, and maybe even, a short tourist boat tour
If you are game enough, then try to climb the steps up the tall tower structure
The Eiffel one, with the shining lights, covering each and every touristy picture

No matter how long the trek or what the destination, take it, without hesitation
Travel deep into the recesses of your own mind, in a cozy spot during meditation
Pick up the best of places of your travel, take a walk through the night time streets
Then make a short detour to the museums and later, how about something to eat

Well, at least, virtually, if you totally forgot
To order home food, from the grocery shop
As in times like these, to avoid that, disease
All of us stay home, and mostly, out of reach

On my Sunday seat, I do, write

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“There is always, time to write” Gun Roswell

On my Sunday seat, I do, write

“I am writing, I am writing, I am so totally writing!”

This, is the mantra, I am, always reciting
But, it so damned hard, as my mind is against me fighting
Always, telling me, the supposed truth, without smiling:

“Your writing, is not very good, now is it, so why are you yourself lying?”

“But, but, some people, like it, they even say so!” I hear myself defending

“That is just cosmetic”, the brain says, knowingly, “a social media bullshit type thing.”

“No, you are so wrong!” I hear myself whispering, but the defeat, steps in

And then, all I can do, is to, stop, my writing
So, now, I am sitting in my hard seat, and, I am crying
Thinking, through my tears, why even bother trying

“Defeat your inner saboteur, and you can accomplish everything”

A quote in a very wise book, as I decided on reading
Instead, as I am no longer, the writer I thought, but, feeling
The strong urge to get back there, and, yes, start typing

After some time, on my own, me and my mind, contemplating
I have moved back to the comfortable seat, and slowly starting
Again, my fingers, running through the keys, and soon enough, I am writing

S is for Sunday

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“Something about Sunday that makes me calm” Gun Roswell 

S is for Sunday

The early morning with its light 
Peeks through my covered window 
The time is still before everyone is to rise 
And everything in this house is totally quite 

There is no hurry for anything yet
The only thing to do is to reflect
The weeks which is coming to and end
As I lay here on my comfortable bed

Soon another day and week will take over
But this, today, this Sunday still has the power
Of keeping me and myself in the moment 
For a fee hours before it is time to let

The new day, with new things, begin
And the circle thus once again, complete 

Sunday Blue

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“Sunday was supposed to be the fun day, but it turned out to be a slump day, meaning I was slouching in my chair all day” Gun Roswell 

Sunday Blue

The day started just like any other day, with the alarm going off, much to my own dismay 
As even the sun was still asleep, and only stars to be seen, so, in bed still, had I intended certainly to be
It was definitely way too early, for anything else but feeling surly, even if my stomach of hunger was churning 
So what was I to do, except maybe, the weather gods to sue, for not giving me the needed light, for my day to guide
The only glimpse in this otherwise dull day, after checking the calendar, was that it was Sunday
So there really was no hurry, not even one slight worry, I needed somewhere to scurry, real quick, in a state of blurry

But, as I was awake, then getting up the only option, and venturing into the kitchen to make some concoction 
To start this seemingly already doomed end of the week, certainly, there was nothing for this day to seek, than maybe some time to sleep
Alas, this had not been the case, as I was now, somewhat fully awake, so from no on, I would just have to fake
To have a good time and enjoying my so called day off leisurely fun, but then there was the pun
As I was far too tired and annoyed to think of anything nice to do, so what happened next?
You guessed it! I was totally and fully engulfed, in the all consuming Sunday Blue!

Just a Sunday

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“The week ends, on a Sunday, a silent or a stormy one, that is up to you, really” Gun Roswell

Just a Sunday

Early morning, birds outside the window screaming
Yes, it is definitely a Sunday, no peace for the one in dismay
The mere thought of calmness felt tingling, just last night while beckoning
For the end of the week to be arising, the one day for smiling
Alas, it was for nought, not at all what I had thought
A quiet day, seated, just, by my good ol’ self
But then, the doorbell rang, and someone in the shower sang
The kids in the streets, yelling bloody murder
Even if it was just a game of something blurred out there
Then the phones, yes plural, went off
All of them, there, on the table in a neat row
Always someone out there wanting something to be done
Just because, hey, it was your day off, right? Not reserved for fun!
As the morning turned to noon, which by the way, came too soon
The after hours after that, turned out to be just as bad
Finally the evening lurked around the corner
I saw the sun starting to set, just looking out of border
The whole day of Sunday spent, not in peace and quiet
No, but like a circus or some other type of crowded event
I know I should not be complaining, just and simply explaining
Never plan ahead too much, because you’ll end up doing much too much

Elements of Water

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“The elements of nature, can be sometimes harsh, other times, they can be soft, calm and a refreshing balm for this tired, human body” Gun Roswell

Elements of Water

The blue and endless waters with the soft sandy beaches, beckoned this weary traveller, before becoming too bored

The lure of it all, oh so tempting, and before I knew what was happening, I had made my way to the end of the very shore

The waves softly, even gently, splashing, against the solid rocks, the sand so soft beneath my shoes and socks

The nature, with a full knowledge of its certain affect, on this poor soul, as it made me all the way to this gorgeous site venture

And before the day was done, and I had all the possible fun, this place had become my most treasured adventure

Sunday Blues in blue

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“Sunday is always spent in the mood of blue, whether it be the colour of the clothing, the colour of the ocean or the colour of the sea, it’s all so clear, you see?“ Gun Roswell

Sunday Blues in blue

The Sunday noon sun shine, hit high in the above blue skies
Almost as high as did the cool blue waves of the otherwise calm ocean fly
But for the one, now dressed up in all blue, just for the sake of pun
The blue was more than just a dress code, or the blue bird over flown

Sunday was always the day of feeling bringing on the one specific colour
It even had that special and all so familiar odour
The one with hint of sadness, maybe even a touch of madness
But mostly, it was a reminder of an ending, even, whilst leisurely time spending

Despite all the moods, hitting mostly, towards the blues
Sunday was and always will be, the time of reflection of all the dues
And maybe, even some of the don’ts, but mostly hopes
That the new week will bring forth, something much more worth
Than a simple afternoon spent wallowing, in the total blues