“The little cottage that could, standing tall in the middle of nowhere, never small, but big at heart, daring in weather of all, for years, millennia perhaps, who knows.” Gun Roswell
A house sits on the barren island Waiting for its summer friends Exited, exhilarated, hoping, that Soon, they’ll be arriving, from the mainland
On the look out through the lens Many a lonely days was spent Eternal fire always burning
For the long awaited to be returning Rejoicing of the pending arrival Impatience its only ally Evening turning to morning Now, the friend are returning Damned be all fear Summer, is finally here
“After the storm has passed, the air is very clean, the waters are calm and well, guess there is some cleaning to be done out on the streets?” Gun Roswell
After the storm Everything is calm Surrounded by silence When roaming the island Not a soul in sight A sole bird in flight The scent of nature The intoxicating mixture Enhanced by rain Hard to restrain My rejoicement
“Choose and pick, which ever you may fancy!” Gun Roswell
Taking the tram to work :
As in a tram, you can calmly sit down and even have a ham
No need for steering, for peddling for even discussion of any kind, if you so decide
Just sit and enjoy, the ever changing scenery, and when you are ready to jump of, shout ahoy
Or then, just push the red stop button, instead!
“Take a load off on a Sunday on the Green Seat, even if it might not fit” Gun Roswell
The Sunday is once again upon us, like some lurking fiend waiting for the bus. It is a slow and gentle time, which for most can be simply good and all fine. But for those with a permanent fire lit up their asses, it can feel like harassment. As they need to calm the hell down and if possible, take it easy and finally, sit down! Something, which may never become easy for them, but then again, we are not all built the same. Still, if and when the decision is made, to take a break for once and be all the same. Then take a seat, take a load off, stop the huff and puff and simply enjoy the calm day. After all, tomorrow, just may, be filled with all kinds of things to sort out and forget the play. So, maybe Sunday wasted, wasn’t all that wasted, rather a moment where inhaling was allowed. And for that very reason, simply laying about, can always be a good thing, for recharging. Even if it is done on a way too small seat, painted all in green.
“There is nothing better in Autumn, than a calm Fall morning sunrise by the seashore” Gun Roswell
In a hurry, just, like always, so also, this morning Trying to beat the traffic and get to the seaside before the dawning To watch, experience and really enjoy, a spectacle, specially arranged by mother nature But I am so worried, I will be belated Alas, as I suspected, the time is not, on my side As I am trying, towards the goal, as fast as possible, to drive But, since the other drivers, seem to have, the exact same agenda I worry, that all this hurry, is only going to leave me in one big surrender And soon enough, my fears are materialized, as all the cars, come, to a full stop As if by some great plan, they all halt, right there on the dot Is it a red light or some other type of strife, I wonder just then Swearing, cussing, under my breath, hoping, wishing, not too much time to spend In this state of suspension, my face, in a constant animation Feelings rising, emotions getting spicy And then, just as all hope had been cast out the window The line of vehicles gradually start to move From the rear view window, I can see the water flow Closer, and closer I slowly like a snail approach The sun, rising, the reddish glow, reminiscent of a torch As I am finally reaching the spot, I quickly find the parking lot Rushing out of the car, I am running, even if it’s not so far The pier, where all the viewers are now In awe, admiring the reflected glow Of the sun rising in this Autumn morning Could not have asked for a better view for this dawning
“On the look out for some lighthouses, along the seaside, on the tall piers“ Gun Roswell
The hunt has begun, something don, just for the heck of it or shear fun, as searching for the perfect spot along the long and winding pier, until something interesting I am able to see.
A construct of a sorts, tall or even a short, with a fancy light up on its very top, a guiding one at that, to keep the brave and fearless sea farers safe from any kind of major shipwrecks.
Running up and down, like a crazy person, trying to figure out, where all the great ones are hidden as not all tall piers are equipped with those features, with the magnificent kind of old school architecture.
But continuing on with my very search, as who knows from which corner these houses of sorts might lurk, because even if they aren’t that popular these days, some still around may lay, and finding one would be the high light of the day.
So, carrying on, walking along, each and every single winding and tall, pier I can see near and beyond, until that specific and perfect lighthouse comes my way, as it is the most perfect display for the long, search filled and darkened cloudy day.
“There has always been sea farers in my family, seamen, sea-women, as even my grandmother was one, simply call them sailors as they sure did, sail I mean!“ Gun Roswell
The raging waters beckons me, to take a deep dive into the ocean wide Why take the dive some might say, as the land is so much safer than the seaside I simply reply: Because it is a part of me, the salty waters running deep within
There is no denying, the mermaid inside of me has risen finally The dead give away? The fins where my feet before used to be So, there is nothing to it, just rushing to the nearest harbour and dip All of myself into the rushing waves, soon becoming my slaves As I become one part of the whole, the one thing my heart stole Even before the day I was born as this has always been my true self
So, no more dwelling in the role of a total land lubber My feet are now almost like some kind of rubber As I swim away from the safety of the familiar shores And into the deep end of the life which is nothing like bore
Rantings Of A Third Kind 