The waiting maid by the door

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“Those who served in the past, with little or none in compensation and with too much to do, never a moment to their own, only a resting place in the end” Gun Roswell

The waiting maid by the door

The young woman stood there, by the door, not sure whether she could step inside, onto the floor, after all, she was there only for one purpose, to serve, the family, those who would have her, a labourer for the day, working for minimal wage.

She wasn’t educated by any means, but what she lacked in knowledge, she always managed to compensate with courage and hard labour, never the one to shy away from any given task, no matter how hard and long it would last.

When the working day was done, staring in the early morning hours and ending by nightfall, when the rest of the family had fallen, sleep catching, as only then was she allowed to take a rest, for a few hours until the next arriving day break.

This circle of her life went on for years to come, until she was finally done, getting a proposal from the farmer’s son and off and married she was, not her goal in life, but way back when, this was how a woman’s life was spent… or then again, perhaps, it wasn’t in the so distant past after all?

The owner of the establishment on a break (for Caturday)

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“There is nothing more proud a creature, than that of a cat, especially since they think they own, everything” Gun Roswell

The owner of the establishment on a break (for Caturday)

The cat at the end of the stairs sat

After all, this was his place of business and nobody else’s to claim

And so, therefore, the whatever else kind of aim

Anyone passing by would like to state

The cat would simply ignore them

Because why not, it wasn’t even a chore

As clearly, the cat was the owner

No matter what any Hooman would like to tell

It would never be an easy sell

Not to the cat and certainly not to the person

Because once a feline had made it clear

The territory marked and without fear

Protecting each nook and cranny of the whole

Come hell or high water or some Hooman doll

The cat would never shy away from its stay

Not when there was the whole house at stake

The red house at the end of the road

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“There is just something about red houses, the grandma feel of it all, no matter tall or small in size, they always look so nice“ Gun Roswell

The red house at the end of the road

The colour so bright, it was shining through, in the sun’s light, the greens could not cover or hide it, no matter how much they might just have tried.

Following the path ever so narrow, it was easy to find the yellow coloured doorway, but entering was a tad tricky, as the door seemed to had gotten sticky, but finally making way, for those looking to step in.

But the trip over and getting to have a look-see of what is going on inside of a red house, at then end of the path, was well worth the quest and the trip over to experience this, little house from the ancient past, grandma’s home for sure, or something similar.

Stuck in a rut 

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“On the rocks, in a rut, bummed out, a favourite child has many names as has this particular state“ Gun Roswell

Stuck in a rut 

Sometimes it’s good to be stuck in a rut. Simply calm down and wait for a while, the tide will soon enough rise and let you get unstuck.

But if it seems impossible of a thing to do, then perhaps you really need to think it through. Maybe the state or place isn’t the problem at all, rather the set of mind, trying the progress to stall.

And so, thinking of a new strategy, a new way of life, might just be smart enough, and perhaps sooner or later, you will be able to clear the moorings and move, forward.

Standing small or tall?

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“The light its only purpose and only at night, but still this small, tall structure, is so much more“ Gun Roswell

Standing small or tall?

The light of it never failing

Even if at daylight there is really no telling

It’s a simple construct made out of concrete

Something of an eye sore perhaps

But once the day is over and night falls

Time around everyone starts slowly to stall

This structure of sorts comes alive

Shining its light to those at sea forever

Whether on their best path or peril

Never failing to guide them home

This sometimes worshipped light giver of the lore

The late night sunset (isn’t that when it happens?)

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“Sunset, that perfect cliché which exists, almost every single day?” Gun Roswell

The late night sunset (isn’t that when it happens?)

On my way high, high up
Ever higher
Closer to the sky
On a smooth elevator ride
Up to the 16th floor I fly

From this ocean view
Reserved for only a few
Enjoying the last rays of sun
The last of the sunsets
Of the month of… whenever

Red sky in the evening divine

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“The red is the colour of the magnificent sunset painted in the sky of the evening’s moment high” Gun Roswell 


Red sky in the evening divine

Fire engine red, someone in the watching crowd said, as we were all gathered for the spectacle of the evening displayed in front of us on the sandy shores, and certainly never a bore was this setting told on a lore, as the sun with a loud roar dropped into the deep waters from the sky above.

It was told in a story once in the past and the glory of the moon would create such a blast at least for the duration of the night to last hurling the drowning star deep into the waters far to cool down for a moment until once again in the morning it would rise its crowning head from the watery bed.

The rays curling up slowly but surely until reaching the highest peak in the bluest of skies then warming us dwellers again with the bright white light for a while until the night once again arrived and the moon would overpower the sun, thus completing the circle of routine once again neither of them really winning the game.

But that is just fine as in the end, we truly need them both.

The Golden Moment

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“That golden moment, reflected, in the windows, in the afternoon light – looks like we live in the golden city!” Gun Roswell

The Golden Moment

The windows reflecting the light

As the afternoon’s sun is still bright

Colouring all the surfaces with gold hue

Completely irradiating the feeling of blue

A lyrical moment for the mundane grey

The feeling of dull quickly fading away

As the tall towers and the low windows

Make us believe in fairy tales and wonders

Our city now the golden one

Before the illusion comes undone

And we are back to the mundane vision

Of dull surfaces needing revision

The Palm Tree and the Fortress

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“The vistas from a picture perfect postcard, the trees of palm surrounding the ancient built fortresses, something you don’t every day see, at least, not way up here, in the North, the land of cold“ Gun Roswell

The Palm Tree and the Fortress

A perfect view caught the eye of the weary pix snapper, while strolling along the streets of the unknown, but interesting city, the vistas each giving more to the traveller than ever been able to even imagine. 

Appreciating the scenery, some of it from nature itself, some made by those ancients, who came before us, leaving a legacy, still standing strong after times passed for so long, remaining there for a moment longer, and so, enjoying them all, before they too might be gone.

The humble pic snapper trying to preserve in pictures, places from beyond, for those coming after to be able to appreciate, making them too see, that some things are worth preserving, after all.

The open door

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“There is something about an open door, wanting to take a quick look inside, even if there is no invite” Gun Roswell

The open door

The door, remained open, as if left on purpose so

The invite perhaps left there for anyone passing by to cypher, to enter of not

As only the bold would most likely jump on the opportunity

Even if this was not a big city and most people knew the other

But, for the stranger, the new one in town,

This would be one of the few chances of taking a look around

Seeing how the locals lived, and with what kind of trinkets their home was filled

As there is a little peeping person in all of us

Simply wanted their curiosity to get satisfied

And so, the daring passenger from a foreign land

Decided it was the invite to take a peek, see what they can

From the doorway though, never really daring to enter

After all, respiting the privacy of others, was essential