“The world has turned snowy white all of a sudden.” Gun Roswell
Whiter than white
The blanket so tight
Woven onto the ground
And into our minds
Yes it’s winter
Oh joy!?
(She says sarcastically
What she means really)
Quite the splinter
And a clever ploy!
First it was nice
Now it seems
You are staying
Just of spite
“Sometimes, the wintery white turns blue” Gun Roswell
Something old
Something new
Something stolen
Something blue
A moment in time
Forever frozen
Captured
By an image
In the mind’s eye
And possibly
Forever
In bits and bytes
“Sometimes, it snows outside in Winter” Gun Roswell
Close to night fall
The sun about to set
The moon coming out
Time for a nap
Before the next day
Begins
“It is that time again, to turn a new leaf in life” Gun Roswell
Colourful burst of noise filled blinding light
Filling the darkened day, soon turning into a night
The clocks, on the walls, and everywhere, are quickly churning
As the long awaited coming of a new year starts slowly turning
Time itself stopping, for a blink one an eye
As all the wishes and hopes, for a better life
Fill the airways, from every which possible way
Letting go of the passing year and all its fear
Because now looking forward, is a reward
Of this special midnight, which will make everything alright
“Another year spent, where I’ve accomplished absolutely nothing” Gun Roswell
Bread and Circuses
For any and all purposes
Lights and loud fireworks
Maybe with some other quirks?
No time to waste
It is after all the time to celebrate
So, let us all unite
Leave our differences aside
As the New Year
We all hail
Even if following
A different trail
The past and present
Already having been spent
And so towards the future
From now on end
We will all ascend
Living, breathing, growing
Even if it is still snowing
Bending not breaking
Sometimes shaking
But soon it will be warm
After the cold and storm
“it’s not rain, it’s thicket than that, but it’s pouring from the open skies, must be… snow?!?” Gun Roswell
Brightness surrounding
Snow’s blanket covers all
Feeling my heart pounding
Cannot help but feeling small
The world seemingly wider
Nothing, but snow as a divider
“The best seat in the house, but it’s on the outside!” Gun Roswell
It may be cold outside
With lots of frosted snow
But as the sun comes from its hide
You need to take it slow
Take a seat for a while
Even if it’s not your style
And simply enjoy with a smile…
But, thank goodness: It’s almost summer now!???
“A very short time for a celebration and holidays, but hey, I’ll take it!” Gun Roswell
When the two days of pleasure, puts on a lot of pressure
Because hey, it’s just a few days, and packing in all to slay
The checklist done earlier this year, just in utter fear
Of loosing out on some of the important things to be done
During over three hundred days, packed with all and maybe fun
But then, the fatigue hits and all you can do it just sit
And watch as the candles softly flicker, forgetting all the bigger
Worries and what nots and simply, sipping some eggnog
Because that, is what this season, is really all about!
“Sometimes, the classics are the best of tales, even in reposts. Happy holidays to One and All!” Gun Roswell
The year was 1845. I was about ten years of age and working as a stable girl. Our family lived and worked in Lord Hamilton’s manor house. It was Christmas time and as a gift for the servants, the Lord arranged a feast for the staff and their families.
Mommy had the children dressed in their Sunday best. My two brothers were complaining about the stiffness of the shirts. Starch was itchy and could cause rash, especially if one scratched the itch.
I had my favourite dress on and my younger sister was a bit jealous of the red and green colouring. She was wearing a plain blue coloured hand me down.
After all the fuzz and hassle with the wardrobe, the whole family was finally set to go to the main house and start with the Christmas dinner. Us servants would be dining in the large kitchen. Several long tables were brought in with extra seats as well. This wasn’t a large household. With around fifteen servants and their families, well not all had children and spouses, all in all around sixty people in total crammed around the tables. The two cooks had had their hands full with the preparations and naturally every one that could had chipped in.
But now it was time for celebration. Everyone was finally sitting down and getting quiet. After grace the noise level rose again. Food containers were passed around and everyone was filling their respective plates. After all, it wasn’t often we got to eat in this manner and variety.
After a while, everyone had cleared their plates and it was time for dessert. My favourite was the Figgy Pudding. If possible I opted for seconds. As I got my plate of the delicious substance before me, I licked my lips and dug into it with gusto. It did not take too long for the food to disappear from my plate.
My mom looked at me with a smirk. I looked back at her and passing my bowl I asked: “Is there any Figgy Puddin’ left?”
I was smiling widely, feeling exhilarated, when the bowl was passed back to me with an other helping.
When the final bits were eaten, it was time for the traditional sing along. The farmhand brought out his accordion and after the first few tunes, we all joined in. The evening was spent singing, chatting and finally picking up the tables. We all went back to our dwellings, thanking the Lord for the special meal.
Merry Pudding and God bless us everyone!
Rantings Of A Third Kind 