Frappe by the poolside

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“Gimme coffee, any time, any place, and, in any kind of form, cold or warm” Gun Roswell

Frappe by the poolside

The warm summers day from a memory past, as I was sitting by the pool sipping something cool, laced with sugar and coffee in the warm winds haze, without a care of the future, only whether to dive in the turquoise waters or sweat for a moment longer, sipping on my drink, so much taller than the smaller cup I had at breakfast. But I digress, too little coffee I guess. The warm days of a holiday in the sun and then some shade, sipping from the tallest of glass, each and everyday, at least, a few. The sustenance which keeps one going and going and going, yeah, you guessed it, coffee, no matter what form, cool and calming (hardly!), hot and strong, so much so, that the spoon inside melted, and yes, all of these fine ways, can be done by the poolside, or by the table or even on the run, maybe driving too. But I would not suggest it, as best bet, is to never do anything while driving except keep your eyes on the road.

Sundays filled with sun

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“Sundays, yes, those the fun days” Gun Roswell

Sundays filled with sun

Smell the roses, won’t you When you walk out side Pop into a garden, filled with the Colours of nature, trees, flowers

Everything you can imagine just For the visual pleasures of us all Stroll around, see the marvels

Sit on the bench, inhale All the fragrants, your nose could ever Have imagined, feeling peaceful, watching

The butterflies, birds and bees Busy at work, gathering their sustenance, but Your task, is to relax And there is really nothing wrong with that

Icy art covering my windows

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“Sparkly things all over the windows, must be freezing weather out there!” Gun Roswell

Icy art covering my windows

The rain filed weather front in the early evening, soon was stalled, as the temperatures suddenly dropped. Quickly and without warning, falling, below zero, to the point of freezing. The droplets earlier landing onto the glass of the windows, thrown all over haphazardly by the raging storm, were now frozen solid, to a unified cover very strong.

But as if I watched them glistening in the early morning sun, the patterns emerged, looking like so much fun. As if an artwork of sorts had been swiftly painted, onto the otherwise dull and see through pane. The various small flakes rearranged into various shapes, so many of them there, it was like they were alive as they kept on the change, until the suns warming heat them slowly but surely melted, away.

Going Fishing Today

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“Fishing? Is that some kind of a new trend? Well, I’m in!“ Gun Roswell

Going Fishing Today

Got my poles, got my lures, got my ensemble of clothing for the chore, and the best part, got my fishing hat. After all, that, is the most important part of the whole plan. Right? Well, it’s not really the catch that counts, rather the time spent, even if it might be borrowed as a well meant break, for what the sake, of just getting out there, in nature by the seashore, because that is never, ever a bore, not for me, for you see, I doo love, the sea.

And after all, the fishies won’t get fooled, by that silly outfit, because they can easily resist, those earth worms squirming at the end of the hook, just one look, and they could comment; “Bargain basement lures, hey, we are not fooled down in this extra large pool, so go and get your feast, somewhere else, please, we will swim along now, so don’t have a cow, literally!”.

Well, maybe not in quite those words, but hey, the message was heard, loud and clear, and for me, personally, I don’t care, as I love sitting in the sun, sipping of my cup, eating my sandwiches in peace and quiet for once and that, is the real lure, pun intended, of this outing, at the seashore, by the end of the pier, where I am enjoying my day off, even if I don’t much score, fish wise. But hey, I have a big smile on my otherwise sour face, thanks to this great place!

The seat and the snow

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“Take a seat, in the middle of the snowy scenery” Gun Roswell

The seat and the snow

The white and crispy clean snow, beckoned to venture outside, to the seashore, even with the hard wind blowing. But the sun was shining so brightly and the glittering slopes, or rather huge piles of the same stuff, were perfect for any kind of wintry activities. So, picking up a pair of old school skis and a kind of a rusted and somewhat busted sleigh, and then, out the door was this eager snow loving persons way, and in the open wide wild nature to stay, as this was a perfect of days for such fun activities.

Then after so many hours, which in all honesty were just like thirty minutes or so, the sings of exhaustion started pulling towards some kind of respite for a moment to stay. As the overall physical condition were not really equipped for such a sudden outburst, where sweat and pumping heart was part of the equation. Spotting the best place in the park, and like an x marked red bench, was waiting for this tired old ass, to take a load off. And the scenery, wasn’t too bad either, as it was the best spot to spy on all the others, having their wintery fun too, on this Sunday, somewhat overdue.

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