Seat to the concrete

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“Take a load off, even if you have to scoff, because the seat below, is too hard on to doze off” Gun Roswell

Seat to the Concrete 

Painted in bright inviting colours, those seats, built onto the concrete floors, outdoors no less, and I must confess, it all looks really good, but sitting on that, well, guess there is doubt whether one should, as comfortable it is not, but if it is only a short stop, so, perhaps it will all work, as not all seats need to be as soft, because the lay over is only for a while, before continuing moving along, the trip, not even the long.

Between the two is time

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“Just between the two pillars, a tower lies, something of a time keeper?” Gun Roswell 

Between the two is time

Look right up and ahead, see just there?

Between the two rocky constructs, something one a kind

Sticks out like a sore thumb, which some a time keeper calls

As this tower of a thing, never ever does stall

The clock inside of it, running like time itself

Always accurate and so no one is ever late

So, better keep in mind, when perhaps wanting to unwind 

The tower will keep you posted and remind

Of the one simple fact, that time never stands still

Especially when you really just want to be and chill 

Open the shades, only when the sun to rest lays

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“There shade, the sun, the clouds, the open skies, it’s all just one big illusion in one’s eyes” Gun Roswell

Open the shades, only when the sun to rest lays

The shade of it all!

Yes, just because the sun decided to stand oh so very tall!

And so, finding cover, of any kind was the one thing on everyone’s mind

The windows, the very homes, shutting down all doors, not a sprinkle of it getting inside

Just because someone thought that was the decision made ever so wise

No more peeking into the sun, even if it before was sun

No more glaring into the light, shining ever so bright

Because, someone said, it was not smart

And so, shade for all, was the option with with to go

Night time illumination

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“Illuminated are the windows, reflecting their light from the hard surfaces, the lights of those dwelling inside” Gun Roswell 

Night time illumination 

The darkened night is upon the land of the so many dwellers, who can easily feel it fall

As soon as it happens though, the light of plenty and many are illuminating the roads ahead, long

Therefore, no worries, no sorrow, will follow them, as as clear as the very day, what ever lays

Ahead of them all, the eyes can clearly see, and there is no need, to get back inside, nor is there

To find a place to hide, just because, the very dark night, had fallen from above, none of them needs to feel small, the illumination saving them all

Abandoned, not forgotten

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“The houses of the past, made to last, except they were abandoned, by those who lived there, and no longer want them” Gun Roswell

Abandoned, not forgotten

Those pesky old homes, without a the glitter or domes, abandoned they stand, without any helping hand, refusing to go down, to crumble, because they were made to last, even if those dwellers did not last, rather past by, the houses not nye, and so, leaving to their own devices, to die in the process, but refusing to do so, only waiting, dormant, for some other kinds of beings for there to stay.

Across the Street

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“There is always something more interesting on the other side of the street” Gun Roswell 

Across the street 

The red bench totally beckoned for the traveler to take a step across the street and make themselves a seat out of the hand carved  reddish beat, but yeah it was totally screaming while beaming there, waiting for someone to take the step, closer to it, take a load off, and for a while sit, a perfect fit, for anyone appreciative of a bright and happy colour, spreading the aura all around of cheer, and those having taken the seat even for a while will most certainly leer long after the fact.

Ride a bike or a trike maybe?

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“No matter the number of wheels, just go and get out there, try it, see how it feels, to ride a bike, or a trike!” Gun Roswell

Ride a bike or a trike maybe?

The time for peddling about is always there

No matter the time of year on this blue sphere

Just get yourself a pair of wheels

No matter the count, one, two even threes

It’s always good to get on one of them for you see

Electric or manually powered, is all good

Feeling the air around, as you really should

Not just sitting on your derriere in some stuffy car

Because even with lesser wheels, you are able to travel far!

Of cafes and such

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“The small cafe at the end of the street. A place nobody really ever sees, but it is still there, for those who dare, to wander off and find it  Gun Roswell

Of cafes and such

The city which never sleeps, well, it has to, sometimes, at least.

But those who dare to wander, no matter the time of the hour, will be happily surprised, while finding a place so nice, a cafe at the end of a small street!

So daring, taking a peak, just because it might just be the very place so many of us seek!

A quiet place, nobody cares about, not really, but those who do, will always and forever wander there, again and again.

Mending fences

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“Something about the fences, having been erected all over the place… doesn’t seem right, to keep something in or someone out, right?” Gun Roswell

Mending fences

They are all over the place, wherever you look, there is no cranny nor a nook, which has not been secured, by some kind of fence, either keeping something on the inside of it, or then, perhaps, not wanting trespassers getting there.

Whatever it is, someone wants to keep secure, thinking them things precious or at least, or perhaps they are afraid, that some kind of beast, will come around, and destroy it all?

Still, seems odd, as to why anything should be boxed in, for others not to even have a look-see, but hey, perhaps, there is a loophole of a kind, something to take a little peek through, and see, what it is they are really trying to hide in there?

On a remote Island

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“Island life, can be a strife, but during summer time, all is simply fine” Gun Roswell 

On a remote Island

The place so remote, you will have to take a boat and then row it, a long, long stretch, before even let, close enough to the very space , the perfect spot, right there, on the dot, an island, which when boarded will keep you smiling, all summer long, but only if you can stay strong, never ever complain, about the lack of, all them creature comforts, left behind, on the mainland, as learning to stand, on your own feet, then and there, on the island bare, so far removed from civilisation, the only ones are the flying birds, which can you disturb, in the morning hours, but it’s all simply fine, as learning the mundane life, on the remote isle.