“The glowing blue wheel brightening the darkest of nights“ Gun Roswell
The blue against the black, against the backdrop of the darkened night sky, the wheel of somewhat fun, but also, the wheel of hope, at least for those, whom are in the total darkness lost, bringing light ever so far, and so bringing the hope, for them to find a way home, having stumbled in the long night for so long, their feet, none too strong, but as soon as the wheel is to be seen, they too know, not all is for good lost.
“Rickety it just might be, the bride so wee, something very old, but be bold and take the first step and off and across the waters you go!” Gun Roswell
A bridge carrying you over
To the paradise, or sort of
It’s an island surrounded by water
Maybe even get, a pet otter
Alas it’s heaven for those
Whom seek solitude and prose
So come on down get your dose
Of eternal, sometime surreal
Dream of the Finns
Where life really begins
On an island, in the middle
Of nowhere, without a paddle
“Sometimes, the best scenes in life happen there, when eavesdropping on others.” Gun Roswell
“Good morning campers!
Today we have a special trip booked just for you!”
“Where are we going?”
“Our ship is set to sail, towards the Kos Island and namely, the village of Kardamena.
So hold on to your hats and let the winds be on our backs!”
“Never been there!”
“Me neither: hope they have some coffee there, because I just managed one cup at breakfast!”
“Sure they do: There are many many wonderful cafes by the seashore!”
“The life on the island is peaceful at best of times, when the tourists are gone, as is the storm, until next time then, I guess?” Gun Roswell
Peaceful and silent
On this solitary island
Like a rough uncut diamond
Where blue meets blue
In the waters and skies hue
There is really not much to do
Maybe, just maybe
This is really good for you
Yes, this is my land
Here is were I stand
Just because, I can
“The little cottage that could, standing tall in the middle of nowhere, never small, but big at heart, daring in weather of all, for years, millennia perhaps, who knows.” Gun Roswell
A house sits on the barren island
Waiting for its summer friends
Exited, exhilarated, hoping, that
Soon, they’ll be arriving, from the mainland
On the look out through the lens
Many a lonely days was spent
Eternal fire always burning
For the long awaited to be returning
Rejoicing of the pending arrival
Impatience its only ally
Evening turning to morning
Now, the friend are returning
Damned be all fear
Summer, is finally here
“There is total light in the darkness, because of these tall statues of givers of light.” Gun Roswell
The lighthouse, the giver of so much light
It’s almost a delight
As luminous it will be, during the night
It’s permanent duty without any strife
Will defend though, with a punch and a fight
“Sometimes, one simply wants some peace and quiet, far away from people and the daily grind, and preferably, in the middle of the ocean an island so pretty with everything in it, but by the shore’s of the capital city, close to it all, the hustle and bustle of the big city and people and all, because who wants to be alone, really?” Gun Roswell
A cottage on an island
Preferably on the highland
Still near or in the city
No running water nor electricity
Not another soul in sight
If you dare to enter
You will soon be in plight
Because the center
Of each Finns existence
Is the calculated distance
From their neighbour
Preferably as far as the equator
“After the storm has passed, the air is very clean, the waters are calm and well, guess there is some cleaning to be done out on the streets?” Gun Roswell
After the storm
Everything is calm
Surrounded by silence
When roaming the island
Not a soul in sight
A sole bird in flight
The scent of nature
The intoxicating mixture
Enhanced by rain
Hard to restrain
My rejoicement
“Thar be many fishies in the water out dar!” Gun Roswell
The evening filled
With colourful lights
Cool wind chilled
Time to head inside
The Aquarium a choice
Listening to sealife’s voice
Sharks swimming in tanks
Where a ship had sank
Luminescent jellyfish
But not served as a dish
Enjoying the night life
Of this little town in south
“Something about this, time of the year, this, fall, autumn, whatever it’s called, it’s so, gorgeous!” Gun Roswell
The sun was beckoning
Behind the closed window shades
The outside warm and welcoming
Blue skies and colours splayed
On the tableau drawn by nature
Quite the creator
Of beauty and awe
Almost dropped my jaw
When I stepped outside
And stared at the scene in front of me with pride
Rantings Of A Third Kind 