Setting of the Sun reflected

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“The sun is setting with a fire in the skies, and reflected on top of the water’s surface in kind” Gun Roswell

Setting of the Sun reflected

There is fire in the skies, because the sun is painting red colours of its demise, at least, for the night, as come morning, the sun will be up there again, hot and scorching.

But for now, the spectacle on display, every which way you may just glance, there is the setting sun, reflected, on each and every surface, finding its purchase before disappearing into the ocean no longer blue, before only a streak of the powerful light will ensue, and then that too, will be gone for good, or at least until the new morn’ will emerge. 

Sailing away, yay!

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“I love sailing, even if I don’t and never have owned a boat, still, I will never turn down an offer to go sailing!“ Gun Roswell

Sailing away, yay!

A slight detour up and around the bend, surely, a god’s send, the sails taking in wind, feels like a song coming on, an old school sea shanty, for you see, today, is the day to go sailing!

And even if the whole wide world around might just be failing, it does not matter, as I will be waving, on the deck of the very boat, setting sail to a destination unknown, never mind where, as long as it somewhere totally bold, a place never seen, a place never been.

So bye! I am outta here!

The setting moon

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“The moon is setting, making way for the rising sun, if you are letting it, but perhaps try time to stall” Gun Roswell 

The setting moon

The moon will be gone, for a moment at least, while the sun rises, but hey, it’s all good, as the glowing dusty ball, will be right back there again when the night starts to fall, and then, once again, basking under the moonlit sky, with a heavy hearted sigh, is possible for the short while, the sun is gone, until the next morn’, when the same cycle will be starting all over again.

The stairways lead, up, up, up!

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“There is just something inherit about wanting to go ever higher, nothing seems to be high enough, but these stair will take you there, at least, somewhere close by“ Gun Roswell

The stairways lead, up, up, up! 

Up, up, ever upwards, towards the highest of skies, or at least, a place, where the sun shines, towards the tallest peek, to find whatever it is that you seek, forever and now, always trying to get more higher than before, that is the only goal, as what else is there, except the thrive to get to the spot where everyone else is below?

Some Kind of Yellow

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“The summer brings forth all kinds of colours, and some of them are yellows” Gun Roswell

Some Kind of Yellow

The yellow flower alone stood, solemn, alone and proud, even in its own quietness still quite loud.

After all, it was a pretty little thing, it’s thorns adding a sting, to anyone daring to touch at least too much.

But as long as it was flowering, its petals glowing, with the yellow of the sun, looking like a lot of fun, nobody cared it was prickly.

As the beauty admired from a far, was as good as nothing at all, the summer brining out the best in all created ones.

London Calling

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“London just might be calling, but I ain’t fallin’ for that trap! Because you know, they left us, the union, so, guess they don’t want us there anymore?“ Gun Roswell

London Calling

The doors painted bright red, as is the whole boxset, like an alarm or giant sign, they were there, a reminder of the good old days, where nobody would be glaring at their small mobile phone all day.

Placing calls, only if you could afford, a coin inserted to the slot, and on the dot, well, with some effort, fingers numbing from rotating the disk filled with long numbers.

And if memory had suffered a loss, then the only boss, was the thick of the phone book, with names and numbers written down, reading needing to be fundamental.

Still, now, they are a picture perfect reminder of what once was, as no modern day kid, can even realise, what effort it took, just to phone home, never mind chatting, netting or ‘graming the whatever each and every moment of the day.

All hail the phone booth of yesterday!

Raindrops trump the scowls, apparently

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“There is just something about rain, I dunno, but yeah” Gun Roswell 

Raindrops trump the scowls, apparently

The rain banging against my window in the middle of the night, well it’s morning, but I’m not really counting, cause the loud clanging kept me from my beauty sleep, not that it was really ever that deep, just the same, I would like  it to blame, for the lack of my extension span, being quite low, in the early hours of the day, as starting with little of now sleep a day, surely a permascowl plastered now and there to stay, for the duration at least, but the I see, the tiny droplets gathered onto the leaves of the flowers I had bought cheap, and an involuntary smile creeps up towards my cheeks and ain’t that just creepy, but I like it just the same and the rain apparently is to blame!

Just check behind the open door

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“Welcome to have a look-see, our door is always open!” Gun Roswell 

Just check behind the open door

No locks, no stops, nothing there but the doors, which are open, twenty-four seven, at least so the sign says, so go on, don’t be afraid, simply step inside, no need to wait for an invite, just remember to be polite, once you have arrived, take a look around, maybe take a seat, stay a while, the people living there will give you a smile, their antics never vile, but don’t stay too long, because you know what they say about houseguests, who may try to overstaying their welcome 😎

Droplets in puddles

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“When it rains, it pours, unless it just makes tiny drops into puddles” Gun Roswell

Droplets in puddles

The rain fell, on top of the table and there dwelled, in small puddles before finding their way to the ground, being soon absorbed and then nothing more of it found.

But those remaining droplets danced, pranced as an onlooker glanced at the nature’s mini fiesta, in the middle of a summer’s day, before the sun came and washed all of it away.

The rain, might be a big pain, at least in some ways, but in small dosages, it can look pretty cool, and don’t be fooled, we need the rain, to simply survive another day.

Coffee, always as double

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“There is always time for coffee, and then some more coffee after that” Gun Roswell 

Coffee, always as double

The cup of in single, is never enough, especially when it is time to mingle, among the other coffee lovers, then definitely the cup size needs to be double, if not even triple!

As there really is no such thing as too much coffee, and it won’t last long, when moving along the crowd yapping on about, well, what else could it be about, than coffee!

What else is there? Life as we know it would certainly suck without his fine organic suspension every devised. As it does give you a smile or at least a big fat grin, as coffee might just be a sin!