“This year, the nature won’t fear, the coming of winter, rather dwelling in the warmth of the fall, bringing out all the colours so fabulous.” Gun Roswell
Something about this time of the year
There is no fear, the closeness of it all so real
At least for a while that is
As soon, there will be change in the air
The winter closing in, I fear
“Surprisingly, in fall, the autumn as it is also called, it does rain, because, the rainy season? At least up in the North, where the author dwells.” Gun Roswell
Rain, rain, rain
Falling down all them plain
The little liquid droplets
On each and every surface
Bringing forth all the colours of autumn
Fully now, as they do blossom
“There is just something about fall, the calmness, even the warmth, the rain soft just before, the storm hits, but not until October. So, stay a while, September?” Gun Roswell
Today
Is one of the many days
For the Autumn month
Of September
You are soft
You are still warm
You are very colourful
Your are certainly plentiful
Did not promise much at start
But apparently, delivering the more
And as such
I truly you adore
“It’s beginning to look a lot like Fall, the Autumn of it all in nature” Gun Roswell
Two, One, None
It started with a few
Then there were two
Only remaining
A single one
Nothing to be done
The time for Winter
Has finally come
As soon, there will be
None
“The colours so vibrant it hurts the onlookers head, well, sometimes, but hey, just enjoy them for now as snow will fall soon enough!“ Gun Roswell
The colours of autumn in Suburbia
Suburbia coming to life with these colours being ever so bright.
Never mind, the pouring rain, the plain and same ole colour of grey, the dominant for this season, at least where the skies are concerned.
Glance around, prance even if this is the time you have found to do so.
As this flow of nature, is at its very end, almost reaching the winter season, and then it is time to spend indoors, hoping the walls and floors will keep you warm!
“They might not be as green as they once were, but those colours, albeit faded, are still, luminous“ Gun Roswell
Colours of the Season
On the ground they lay, in somewhat of a disarray, still, not willing to give up, not just yet, even if the colours of summer, having turned to fall, had faded, soon to be incorporated to the awaiting dirt in the shade of the dullest of greys.
But, no matter the outcome might just be for them all, no matter the fate, these, faded colourful tiny beings seemed to be hanging on for a moment longer, making the onlookers heart sing, simply because the resilient fight they are putting on, staying strong, no matter the odds.
“It might be already autumn, fall, but these last rays of sun shine will be soaked“ Gun Roswell
Basking in the last rays of sun
They don’t look like much, and even the slightest touch, can make them crumble all the way down, but these hays, the lonely strays, far away, from the fields they were born, still hang on, until the last rays of summer, have been consumed.
And so, these strays loom, gently, softly in the winds of fall, as if trying some more time to stall, and still heaving, leaving, the onlookers in complete awe, as these, straws of summer almost passed, are quite strong and most likely will last, even past the strongest of winter’s storms.
“The colours so vibrant it hurts the onlookers head, well, sometimes, but hey, just enjoy them for now as snow will fall soon enough!“ Gun Roswell
The colours of autumn in Suburbia
Suburbia coming to life with these colours being ever so bright.
Never mind, the pouring rain, the plain and same ole colour of grey, the dominant for this season, at least where the skies are concerned.
Glance around, prance even if this is the time you have found to do so.
As this flow of nature, is at its very end, almost reaching the winter season, and then it is time to spend indoors, hoping the walls and floors will keep you warm!
“It might be already autumn, fall, but these last rays of sun shine will be soaked“ Gun Roswell
Basking in the last rays of sun
They don’t look like much, and even the slightest touch, can make them crumble all the way down, but these hays, the lonely strays, far away, from the fields they were born, still hang on, until the last rays of summer, have been consumed.
And so, these strays loom, gently, softly in the winds of fall, as if trying some more time to stall, and still heaving, leaving, the onlookers in complete awe, as these, straws of summer almost passed, are quite strong and most likely will last, even past the strongest of winter’s storms.
“Nothing more frustrating than trying to row a motorised seaworthy vessel, a lot of resistance and even more hassle“ Gun Roswell
Row, row, row your motorboat
The weather grey and dull, feelings of soggy and null, but the one great thing about a grey day like this, something I would not want miss, for anything in the world, is to set a sea, towards the harsh waves to be hurled as it is totally unheard of, to go out to the waters edge, in bad weather rather best option is simply to stay in the comfort of your bed. But the road so far here to this pier has led, is telling me to go out there and have a totally fun filled day, out there without fail.
But, after riding along, the currents quite strong, the rains pounding over the bow, and somehow, the humidity getting inside of the engines normally fine. Soon enough sputter and coughing the only sounds heard, until the whole setup was done for it and totally died. So, the only option, as this dingy of a concoction, did not have any sails, was simply to cast the ores over the rails and then, gently row, row, row my way back home, and singing along, to that old song, the tune of the ditty, pretty and familiar as riding the calming waves back to shore.
