Bikes in Winter Times (three) 

“It’s just like riding a bike! Guess it is, only this time it’s done in snow!” Gun Roswell

Bikes in Winter Times

The several bikes under the tree taking cover from the winter’s deep and tormenting lash of snow, but that is just what it looks like from far away, as these bikes are here to stay, and even totally slay the snows of the winter, never ever fearing the weather, as they have been permanently tethered to this land of cold by their very riders so bold.

So for now, riding along, no matter spring, summer, fall or winter, these bikes and their riders are fierce and do not mind a challenge, not even something bad or ominous foretold. As they take their two wheelers out there, in the open air, peddling gingerly away, as they are not the ones long in one place to stay. And so, no matter the heavy snow fall, the bikes and their bikers stand tall, against the weather gods.

Of course, the shovel is a necessary tool, when packing for the wintery cold, as digging out from the cover light sometimes, cannot be done by hand and well, that might be the only negative, or then it is the ice roads. Then again, spikes to the wheels and thinking of the snow pushing as a sport, the nothing can go wrong for these winter riders.

Bikes in Winter Times (two)


“Riding a bike in the snow can be fun, that is if you can find the bike under the snow first of all!” Gun Roswell

Bikes in Winter Times

In snow, not cotton
Buried, but not forgotten
Wheels, maybe slightly rotten
Never mind,
I will think of something
For riding my bike
There is no stopping!

Bikes in Winter Times

“Riding a bike, in winter? Well, guess it takes all kinds, huh?” Gun Roswell

bikes-3


Bikes in Winter Times

Winter be spite
I am riding my bike
Enjoying the ride
Even down a slippery
And extremely icy slide!

Life at sea in Monochrome


“Life in black and white like in the olden days, so simple and neat, am I right!?” Gun Roswell

Life at sea in Monochrome

I am neither black or white
I am just a grey delight
Maybe not so much fun
Being only a colour of one
That of a monotone
But not a clone
Or then I am, whatever
But,
You may call me,
Monochrome

In Monochrome (six) 

“Black and white? The two colours shine so very bright, am I right?!”  Gun Roswell


The Lighthouse

A tall tower and its smaller twin
Living, side by side,
On an island, made from winds

With the blue ocean wide
And the land around them thin
No hiding, from the high tide

But together they survive
For they are kind
And nothing them, can divide

In Monochrome (five) 

“Capturing someone’s soul in a black and white photograph? Ominous? Or perhaps preservation for the future?” Gun Roswell


The Ruins

High up
On the mountain top
The basic instincts
Are kicking in:

Clouds filled, with life giving water
Arrived into the valley, with a fog like holler
Do not worry about survival anymore
Looks like the weather gods,
Rewarded us with a big score

Peekaboo!!!

“Peekaboo, I see you!”


Peekaboo

From its current hiding
It comes out looking for something
But then suddenly backing
Never any answers giving or asking

Playing, toying, lurking
Peeking, checking, probing

You may try a tactic different today,
Then shout out:
“Hey, you there; why don’t you come out and play!?”

There is no way of knowing
Whether it’s coming or going
Whatever it has decided of doing
It is for sure, there will be a surprise

Laying low, until it’s time to blow
But for now, just taking it slow

And then: out of the blue:
“Peekaboo, I see you!”

Directions to Get

“It’s all in the perspective of things” Gun Roswell


Flying Up

Catching the winds of spring
Soaring high up, my song to sing
I am a pretty bird in flight
And I may not always choose right
But I am sure this direction
Is the one I need for completion
Of my getting up so high
Even so far as the crows fly
Despite being a miniature beaked thing
There is no rule saying I cannot sing
And thusly, I am up here
In the open wide stratosphere
Higher than any other bird ever
In your face, for being clever!

Hoist the Sails!


“Time for summer winds and sails” Gun Roswell


Close enough to the mountains

Close enough to the seashore
As I try to some mountains score
That is simply, because
I really want a picture perfect to adore

So now, here I am, browsing
The sea line slowly drowsing
Hoping for that best of scenes
In my view point to achieve

Maybe not today, maybe not to tomorrow
But I know that even if I have to borrow
An image from some other land
I will get my mountain view as here I stand (or sail)

Monochromania in the sunshine land

“I see a bunch of greys” Gun Roswell


Monochromania in the sunshine land

Looking at the world through monochromatic eyes
Eyes wide without any shade or disguise
Disguise, which is so easy to cover
Cover up all the faults
Faults only visible in true colours
Colours so easily distorted Distorted like the inevitable truth
Truth which cannot be hidden Hidden in the shades and shadows
Shadows only seen in the darkness
Darkness hiding in the black Black and white turning to grey
Grey, which is the true colour Colour without any kind of colour
Colour only described as monochrome


Monochrome in so many shades
Shades you learn to love Love rather than hate Hate really is such an ugly colour
Colour so much more than any other
Other could be like monochrome Monochrome mania Mania to celebrate it all