travel, traveling, travel blog
“There are lots of dive bars all around for a quick drink, but the there are those places you can spend several hours in, having a good time, with food and fine wine” Gun Roswell
A short stroll in the heat of summer
Looking for a place to recover
Taverns and restaurants beckoning
A cold drink for thirst lessening
“Red is a pretty colour, true. Perhaps a tad on the nose, but yeah, pretty!” Gun Roswell
“I see red”
Said Ted
As toward the shed
Painted red
He quickly fled
Unfortunately
A fence,
Also, painted red
Made his trek
Short instead
“Nature can be most gorgeous, or dangerous, but more so, gorgeous” Gun Roswell
Sitting on a swing
Not worrying about a thing
Enjoying the simple life
Without a stinger or a strife
The air almost like silk
Time slowly passing by
Not one trouble in sight
Observing, watching, looking
What is nearby cooking
The hedgehog sipping it’s milk
The squirrel with it’s tail high
A bird gliding in mid flight
The flowers in the wind crooking
The clouds hanging softly in the sky
Exhaling, letting out a sigh
The last rays of sun on the skin
What a perfect fin
For a July summer’s day
The grass in a gentle sway
“A calm, cloudy, and rather sunny Sunday (surprise!) what a contradiction indeed! As usually, when Sunday arrives, so does the cold weather and the rain, right?!” Gun Roswell
When the Sunday time, loudly, its present chimed
We ran, like we were on fire, out there, from the dire
Into the open wild nature, with colours so lush
There really was no need for any kind of rush
To enjoy the art work devised by our beloved Mother Nature
Was there for everyone to see, without any kind of fee
But we ran, as fast as any one can, really
For you see, there was somewhere else we wanted to be, really
Beside the calm and cooling waters, fooling around like a bunch of sea otters
We made our way, discarding all clothing, falling where ever they may
Splashing into the soft waves, letting the healing waters save
Ourselves in the process, as this was the place for us, the total bliss
We played and frolicked, until the darkness descended we stayed
Then only, reaching for the softest of sands, lending each other a hand
To find the discarded garments, a little dirty, maybe even sandy, was a mild statement
But nobody cared, as it had all been time so well spent
Out here, on the beach, on this summer’s Sunday we had reached
And if we were to be lucky, maybe next weekend, we could come back again
The tiny wooden made shack, by the seashore stands, sideways slacked
It’s really not much to look at, just a few odd planks together stacked
But for the one that built it, this little house, might just be, the perfect fit
A summer’s cottage, or a simple, almost a tent type thing, on the beach sits
Alas, the rough and unforgiving autumn winds soon will fall
Upon each and every single plane, even up, to this remote shore
If the tiny summer cottage will the beating of weather’s wrath survive
Then come next spring, the dweller will have a place to return just fine
But, until that time, the sun will still shine
The clear blue waters and even the skies
Will be totally able to provide
The needed light and warmth to get by
Here in the tiny beach house, oh so divine
“Nothing but the wind on my back and the sun on my face as I set sail to vistas unknown” Gun Roswell
Even on the cloudiest of days
I will not for long in a dismayed state stay
As I step outside into the calming beach
I am greeted by a cooling breeze
Nothing is more invigorating than the sea
Cool blues as far as my eyes can see
Even if I choose to just hang around
Take my place on the rocky ground
Or if I am feeling daring and adventurous
I can set sail to the open waves
In my small dingy of a boat with sails
I feel great, alive and most of all
I am spending the best of a summers time, at the seashore
And soon enough, even the sun cones out
Making this day too, perfect all around
“A small cafe in Paris just around the corner hidden away from prying eyes“ Gun Roswell
Sunday and a cup of coffee, a perfect combination for the brief time allotted
Sneaking away, stealing time from it all just for a few precious moments
As this was supposed to be the one day, which is the day of some time off
Alas, something came up, as it usually does and the chances growing slim
But luckily there is a perfect kind of spot, hidden around the corner just off
The busy streets where the cats sleep, at least on a sunny day on Sunday
Alas not today, as everyone seems to be gone completely somewhere else
As soon as the small cafe coming to view I can see that not even a few or one
Patrons are present so I guess it is only for me myself and I so seating down
My frown turning upside down, yes it is a smile which away has been a while
But not today as now I can here alone with my thoughts for a moment stay
In this pleasurable place on this fine Sunday afternoon on a seat in a cafe
“Sailing, into the blue, to cure, all, of my blues, failing, now continued, in the blue, it is eternal, for us, chosen few.” Gun Roswell
The blue ocean beckons
The cloudless skies reckon
It’s time for midweek
Find what ye shall seek
Peace of mind or simply
The weekend on the rise?
“Sometimes it’s just a slow week is all, but then, it’s suddenly Sunday?” Gun Roswell
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!)
“Wanting to flee, something of a mood each and every Monday it seems” Gun Roswell
No matter if you are travelling or at home
There is always something mundane going on
During the first day of the week
You might not always really find what you seek
But look around what the world of mundane will bring
You may be surprised of the same old things
Look so much different depending of the mood or light
Some of them coming finally to life
There is art where you least expect it to be adored
Just grab your camera and a new attitude and go to explore
It may be Monday, that one specific day
We all love so much to hate, well, at least of it debate
Just call it the beginning of an interesting week to enjoy
Because Friday will get here sooner than you have time to shout:
“Ahoy!”
Rantings Of A Third Kind 