travel, traveling, travel blog
“So many faces, even ancient ones” Gun Roswell
Faces
Faces Forward and Sideways
Faces off the wall;
Fast forward, backward,
Even, to the side
Expressions may vary,
From grouchy, to content
And even
To a widest of smiles
The ancient figures
On the relief of yesteryear
Quite approachable
In the now and here
Take a leap back to history
And you may end up
With quite a unique story!
“So many faces, even ancient ones” Gun Roswell
Faces
Boy Face
A face from the past, made to last
In bronze it was carved, by an artist starved
A boys image, preserved through the lineage
Displayed as a portrait from ancient times
For the onlooker, a jolt of historic vibes
A charioteer, who never had any fear
Always delivering, far, beyond and even near
In his own time, perhaps an unknown figure
Now, in the present times, celebrated with vigor
Thus owning his place in continued history
“The grass is always growing, no matter what” Gun Roswell
Some kind of Grass
Seat on the grass
A small size seat
On the grass so neat
Soon to be devoured completely
Into the growing grass so neatly
There is no time to react
Just accept the simple fact
Grass always grows
Every single where!
“The grass is always growing, no matter what” Gun Roswell
Some kind of Grass
Fenced in and out
The grass growing wild
In the nature open wide
Neighbour decided
It was time for the divided
Putting up a fence
To keep out the green grass
But, alas!
Big was his surprise
When he saw with his own eyes
The nature cannot be contained
No matter what kind of chains
You try to wrap around
The very ground
Everything grows
Because it knows
That person is a fool
And needs to be schooled
In the ways
Of all things nature
“The grass is always growing, no matter what” Gun Roswell
Some kind of Grass
Blue on white
Fluffy and cuddly
It appeared suddenly
Onto the roof top
In just on single hop
A grassy thing
But yes it could sing
Despite its appearance
In a colour of silence
Blue was it painted
By nature tainted
But it never faded
Into the background placid
“The grass is always growing, no matter what” Gun Roswell
Some kind of Grass
On the top of a tree
The stump of wood may be old
But a great nature’s pot of gold
It is for any kind of growth
To take its time and hold
Hollow, from a far it may look
But there is always a hook
And for grass it never took
Too much time to climb up the very nook
So what you may here see;
On the top of a very tall tree
As far and wide as the eye can see
The green grass is growing free
“Lay under the blue sky on the cool sand” Gun Roswell
Blue Beach
Why don’t you, come on over,
To this place special, where
The Heavens meet the Earth
This, is the end, of the search
A place where, all that is lost, is found
A place where, the skies are the same as the ground
A place where, time stands still
A place where, there is only need for one skill
Enjoy the life that exist in the here and now
Of the time for freedom and being proud
Of the time for celebrating and singing
Of being what you are, as you come so far
Simply enjoy yourself, in the here and now
”Cannot beat being by the water!” Gun Roswell
A Trip to the Lake
Sailing at Last!
Sails are hoisted, I feel elevated
Here at the helm, I am under a spell
Chanting sea songs, keeping me strong
I am finally going, to be a mermaid, no seamen after all!
Sailing, sailing,
Over the bountiful lake
Oh, for heaven’s sake
Keep the noise level at bay
As we are sailing
Across this calm lake!
Nothing but calm on the water surface
Direction unknown, but it will be known
When we reach there, where ever it may be
Time will tell, and then we will see
”Cannot beat being by the water!” Gun Roswell
A Trip to the Lake
Pick a Ride
Which ride to pick, is a dilemma indeed
There are so many boats as far as I can see
Small boats, big boats, oars, sails, I know I will fail
Unless something easy comes around
And then, I will make it off this sandy ground
Into the open seas, or lakeside, yes indeed!
When I have finally chosen the vessel
As I am boarding the boat, I am getting my chisel
Carving it to a stone tablet, this is really happening
I am going out to the water edge
As I so long ago to myself pledge
Now it is happening for real, and I am becoming one with the sea
”Cannot beat being by the water!” Gun Roswell
A Trip to the Lake
Defying the Weather
Trying so very hard to ignore
What the weather gods have in store
Looking through the window shield
As the dark clouds arise from the field
Driving ever faster, beating the storms on this trip
The road getting plastered, as the rainy drops drip
The goal is just around the horizon, but cannot stop the rising
Of the darkening skies, no matter how hard I try
The petal is on the metal, the tires are a screeching
But yes, I am my destination reaching
Despite being drenched, from the waters around the bend
But never mind the weather, as I am here, in this place special
Rantings Of A Third Kind 