London in Monochrome 1

“I never travel without my camera. One should always record ones steps if nothing else than for the future reference, especially during the days of change” Gun Roswell

London in Monochrome

Rain, rain, rain
But that dreaded and endless rain
Running down the very drain

But, around in the City of London
Without the feeling of any kind of boredom
As there are too many things to see
My little face, has finally lit up with a glee…

The ol’yellow house

“The old house painted in flashy colours, inviting to say the least, so let’s step inside and see, what the fuss is all about” Gun Roswell 

The ol’yellow house

Step right in, it’s open house today, all of this gorgeous yellowness is on for display, take a good look all around too see what interesting things in the ol’ yellow house can be found. After all this an archaic house, filled with hidden traits, trinkets and such, just at the very reach for those whom carefully seek. So, don’t get so bleak, rather step through the door and see what the yellow house has in store for you this time around.

Take a chance while you can, as the ol’ yellow house, might just be but a dream, not really what it seems and do, gone before you realize, as you walk through that door and take a  good long stroll around the whole thing, it may be round like a ring, or then square like the box in, well town’s square. But whatever you can imagine, it will be there waiting there for you and so, stay a while, to get that smile on your face, because the next thing which will happen is, that you will wake up and  it’s all gone. No more yellow house as it was all a simple dream.

Brick by brick

“Building something, brick by brick, well, isn’t that rather archaic? Or maybe not, who knows, just to what you feel is right, do it!” Gun Roswell

Brick by brick

Building something great and lasting, brick by brick, seeing the end result growing each time you lay another one on the top of the former, each time, the structure growing bigger, taller, wider and even stronger, is certainly something worthwhile. Something, which upon completion, is much more worth than a single smile. Well, at first, it might be that, then small celebration, of the arduous and long lasting job finished, and what was there accomplished. Maybe a wall of sorts, a fence around the house, to be safe? Maybe even the house itself? Some stairs to take you up and down wherever you were going? Or a small grill on the outside, in the garden to make something to eat. Whatever it is you will want to speak of it, to be proud of it as building something with your own hands, something which may or may not last, it is still quite the feat, even if a tiny cheat, while luring your neighbours and friends to aid in the process. But no matter how it got there, it will be for a while, and for all to admire, all them bricks on top of bricks.

The seat in the cafe outside

“The seat in the cafe outside in the sunshine is begging just to be sat down on” Gun Roswell

The seat in the cafe outside

The sun shining, at least for a while, as the rain season, is now. The side street cafes are finally open again, after a while of slumber, now broken. The people coming out, from the darkened rooms, smiling again, as the rain, has past and even if the shining sun is not there to last, they will survive the coming darkness, with this small piece of light. Some of them heading for the cafes, making their picks randomly, without a rush or hesitation, walking slowly out of pleasure of just being outside, in the open wide. 

The smallest cafe of them all, with only a few stalls, a table here and there, with a chair of two, and almost hidden from the main view. But those who dare to wonder, a tad longer, will find the most inviting seats of them all, in this small house of coffee, or tea or whatever else the pleasure might just be. The point not being the beverage or the name of the place, rather that in this small house, the patrons, can a few more moments than usual stay, without rush and hurry, but simply in the moment gently sway and then when it’s time to go, that too will happen quite slow.

Sighting Hill

“There is a lot of activity up them tall hills, be that from this planet here or maybe from somewhere else, who knows, but still quite interested in finding that out am I, so guess, it’s time to fly or hike, up that slippery slope of a hill” Gun Roswell

Sighting Hill 

The hill up ahead, strong and bold, standing tall, right there in front of us, weary travellers, watching in awe as the stories told, coming alive right in front of us. The tales of myths recited of others coming to this place, some of them like us, some more exotic and from far away places. But whatever the case or rather the truth behind all the colourful tales told, most of us here now standing below, were already sold at well, at “this is an odd tale” kind of a pitch. So, taking a hike towards this gorgeous rock we, the adventurers never intend to stop, until reaching that very top and finding out for our very selves, whether these storied told are as true as those who did the sales. Soon enough, climbing up the very rocky face of the tall, tall hill, trying to reach the perfect spot to observe and take in, all the sights below and those, shown also from above, the skies, the space and all of it out there, which ever way eyes can see and ears can hear, all of it in front of us and then, maybe, if we are lucky, we will get to meet those other travellers, from the very beyond, and exchange stories of the Sighting Hill.

An Uphill Battle This Is!

First you’re up then you’re down” Gun Roswell

An uphill battle this is!

Up the steep hill struggling
My feet sliding on the slippery stones
Trying hard not to fall

Ancient ruins beckoning to be
Checked, have to reach the top or
It is a total flop

Breathing is heavy, so loud
The local fauna wondered what the hell
Is this ruckus all about

They all gathered to stare
As further up I climbed the stairs
Until finally I was there

The Shade and the Beach

“Under the shade giving parasol, situated on a beach, is, where I totally like to sit” Gun Roswell

The Shade and the Beach

On a lazy day in the middle of the hazy season
I cannot find any one simple and totally good reason
For staying away from the tempting summer’s beach
Even if, someone, just might call me, a royal leach

As I am headed towards that sandy haven
I listen to the other people and their constant craving
Of taking some desperately needed and deserved, time off
But I filter it all out, because I’ve decided, to differ from the lot

Reaching the designated place, with my trusted parasol I stay
Under it because the sunlight might be burning fate
Seated comfortably with enough food and drinks
And some good reading my teeth into I can sink

I am finally out and totally day off kind of proud
To be resting on the soft sandy beach without noises loud
My mobile phone turned off and I am officially out of reach
Because today is that kind of a day at the beach

Under the shade, of course
The shade on this great beach

Tuesdays keep on coming, well once a week anyway!

It’s another day of the week, naturally!” Gun Roswell

Tuesdays keep on coming, well once a week anyway!

The days come along one by one (usually the way they do)
It’s almost like singing a song (verse by verse moving along)
Today it’s Tuesday, when only yesterday it was Sunday (that’s how I recall it)
And now, it’s getting late, no matter how I hesitate, tomorrow will be here, I can feel it near (What do you know: It’s Wednesday and midweek, what a geek!)

Guess I need to stop worrying about Mondays anyway (Oh, did you worry before? Did not know that…)
Since the days keep on changing without my aid (Yeah, need a time machine for that!)
Why worry about some day, when there is always the next day (True, do like the Spanish do, manana!)
So, on this day of …ahem, Tuesday, I swear, not to worry about another damned day!!! (Liar! You know this promise or what ever is as good as the up and down going fever! You will never keep it, trust me, I know shit!)

Bring it on Tuesday, Wednesday and even Friday (Don’t forget Monday and something else!)
Every day, from this day on is my day (note to writer, how many times can you get away with the word “day”?)
I will start appreciating the here and now (Yeah, really! Like to see that)
And then, if not, nobody have a cow! (We already did! It’s there in the backyard!)

Small Seats for Sundays

“A respite, on a sunny Sunday day, cannot lead anyone, astray” Gun Roswell

Small Seats for Sundays

Under a decorated window, a fire engine red coloured setup lies
Completely surrounded by flower pots, with various sorts, all of them bright
The comfortable and all so cozy extension of the house painted all white
Inviting all, friend, neighbour and even stranger, to sit, just, for a bit
As on this sunny day of a Sunday, after walking, you really needed, a respite

Two soft looking seats, awaited, in the bar, so modern and totally sleek
It did not take too long, for us tired and thirsty tourists, to sink into them deep
Not wanting to move a muscle, only trying to avoid all that hustle and bustle
Even a wave of the hand seemed a chore, but not wanting to be a total bore
A whistle to the server and soon enough, to sets of drinks were brought to this respite
So totally cool and calm, but mostly, for us, the perfect and best fit

The beckoning, of the bluest of the Mediterranean seas, on this sunny day
Lead the weary tourist, now looking for that perfect respite towards the bay
Where the perfectly made table and two chairs awaited to be seated on
The odours, the smells, of lunch time menus, so inviting and totally strong
It would have been utterly disrespectful and yes, completely wrong
To steer somewhere else and not to take advantage of this risen opportunity
Where taking a load off your feet, combined, with something great, to eat

Black cat sitting on the street corner

“There is a black cat in the street just sitting there, should I be scared?” Gun Roswell

Black cat sitting on the street corner

There once was a black cat
Whom neatly on the street corner sat
Never moving, never budging
Even if there would be a large truck in
Coming around the bend
He would just sit there and this time spend
On nothing and everything
As the world would turn around him

Why you may ask?

Well you see, this is his one job
The only one suited on this small blue globe
As he is the very watcher of us all
The one black cat, sitting quite tall
And that is why there is no fear for us at all
As he keeps an eye on us, that we will not fall