“They still grow, not as strong as before, yet continuing to hang on despite the harshness of winter. Perhaps even raising their middle fingers to the freezing cold.” Gun Roswell
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
“You can track those gone before, having carved a path in the fallen snow. At least in the early morning winter hours, when the snow showers have subsided. Only hoping they are leading where you want to go.” Gun Roswell
Barely visible imprints in the snow
Leaving behind, a soft glow
Only to be trying to follow the flow
With a pace certainly set to slow
“It looks like cotton candy, true, but it smells like nothing at all, tastes kind of bland if you dare to try it, then melts in your hand when you touch it. As it is simply water, nothing more.” Gun Roswell
Fluffy, soft and white
In the softest of light
Tiny jewels flickering
Waking the slumbering
Into a bright white blossom
In the snow as light as cotton
“The crisp of the air greeting your lungs, the freshly fallen snow covering nature all around, silence as nothing else is a wake, not yet… this is winter at its best, the early morning hours, just around sunrise” Gun Roswell
Early winter morning
Early, before the dawning
Fresh tracks in the powdery snow
Carefully found before the wind blows
The snowflakes frozen
Glazed against the window
Ski tracks on the ground
But not a soul to be found
The crescent moon
Present before noon
But not far behind
The sun with its shine
“Yep, it’s Winter time once again, that horrid cold and dreary blanket tightening around us and not letting go, until maybe April or May “ Gun Roswell
The snowy paths seemingly tempting, at least when viewed from the window from comfy and warm inside, but this illusion of puffy whites and fluffy piles of soft powder only hides the fact, that it is really, really cold in there and if you even try to let out one single word of swear, your breath will freeze in an instant and the curse will only become a soft whisper, in the seemingly gorgeous and absolutely picturesque scene, of a picture perfect snow filled postcard, something to send for a seasonal holiday, even if this specific day, would leave the visitor daring the winds and gust and cold, totally not sold on the idea of “yeah this is what I really wanted to do for my one day of holiday!”
Alas, this season too, is part of the vicious cycle of life here on the planet of these humans birth, the options not really there, unless, somewhere else on the sphere a relocation plan can be fared, but usually, it is simply best to stick with the planned life despite all the strife as soon enough, there will be warmer weather ahead. Besides, these days, you can simply stay indoors and enjoy the coco and s’mores, and sleep until the sun rises once again in May.
“Baking some nice pastries, for the sweet tooth on a Saturday noon, then finding out, how those turned out in the oven, is a whole other matter“ Gun Roswell
When the hunger for something sweet beckons, and to the freezer beckons, searching for some ingredients to whip up something real quick, before getting totally sick and delirious when the craving gets too much and such so then, finally finding some old and thankfully not yet mouldy supplies, putting them to getter for a few sweet pies. Shoving the lot into the oven and hoping the heck something of them coming out, a tasty treat for me to snack on, and in no time at all, the ding of the clock, indicating it is done, and so, it’s only a matter of moments before the treats are good and ready to eat.
Turning my back for mere moments, just enough time to make some coffee to go along with it and then ready with the dark liquid to pick up those sweet treats and what do I find? All of them gone, gone, gone! Nothing left except the face like a calling card of sorts. And when I looked at it I could clearly see, as to whom was the thief of my supposed tasty treats – Those darned aliens! They damned well ate all my sweet tarts!
“No matter, sunshine or not, as it is almost summer, going to the beach is a must “ Gun Roswell
No matter the day or time or even season
There is an inherit urge to the point of treason
Against the odds that is, as it is, the beach
Is not accessible to most of us except during summer
Which is a big bummer, but then again, winter
Is the eternal splinter, with all the cold weather
Snow and such, most of us don’t really care about
Of course there is the options to carve a small hole
Into the ice if you are really feeling that kind of bold
And dive into the freezing cold of the water
And the running but naked into the hot and humid sauna
But, for now, it might not be the perfect kind of state
As spring and therefore summer are totally delayed
For a visit to the sandy shores, still, trying as one must do
Getting there, in the foggy kind of haze, finding the perfect place
And then laying down on the sun bed, even if clothed fully
In warm winter clothing, but it is already April and the beach?
Well, it may be out of reach for some time more
But hey, spending a day, even in the icy cold winds
It was still the beach and nothing or no one can deny
That I’ve got a huge big smile on my face just because, beach!
“A cold and crispy day, but sunshine warming up the display of the outside looking inviting, for a stroll on the lake“ Gun Roswell
The sunny day beckoned towards the open waters, only they weren’t as open this time of year, rather frozen solid like the rest of nature.
The snow covering the surface of ice, thick, which in a way is safe and nice, especially for those taking a shortcut across the lake.
The tracks there found by so many others gone there before, taking a leisurely stroll or hurrying to work, and the one perk of enjoying the scenery while doing so.
But for those having the time, simply enjoying the warming sunshine in the midst of the coldest of winters, is something totally divine.
“Another worthless year behind me in which I’d accomplished absolutely nothing!” Gun Roswell
Somehow, managed to muddle through real life, work and family
And for that I had an extra kind of remedy
Getting totally lost in the very land of, fantasy
And staying there for as long as possible
Watch so many favourite shows during the year
Over and over and over, without any fear
The familiar episodes bringing tears but also joy
And that my dear readers, was indeed the ploy!
Managed to output some things too
Stories, articles, poetry accumulating but a few
Over six-hundred-k words typed with bleeding fingers
But seeing someone cheering out there, sent me good shivers
People a few, really good ones too, did I meet
Not that socialising was the thing I was out there to seek?
Becoming somewhat of a hermit, a recluse, pardon the excuse
Of a certain viral strain raising havoc across the plains
Managed to get a few great friends
And over the internets no less!
We may never see each other face to face
But hey, as long as we share our favourites
That is all I really for the daily grind need
And so, without a doubt:
Happy New Year, just the same!
“So many windows to open , but no doors in sight! Guess there is a slight chance to escape through the open cracks of said windows?” Gun Roswell
A window, facing, the open sea
Allowing, a whole new world, to be seen
Do not try, from the life, outside, to hide
Open the window, and let the breeze inside
Enjoy the sounds and smells
Even the sunlight and thundery rain
Follow the birds, and their play
Soon, from the window sill, you’ll never leave again
Colourful it may be, from the outside
But what is hiding inside, may not be, so divine
Darkness and shadows, lurking in every corner
Huddling figures, afraid, alone, nothing normal
Open the window, let in the thundering storm
It may be followed, by a few drops of rain to fall
Sunshine surely to follow, shining light into the hollow
Take a peak, outside, you’ll realise, there is no need to hide
Rantings Of A Third Kind 