Blue, Bluer, Bluest

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“Cool, calming, ever so charming, is the water, in the colour of blue or basically, any other hue will do” Gun Roswell

Blue, Bluer, Bluest

Water reflecting the surrounding blue skies and the ocean hues, on to the surface, of the small pool, situated on the patio, painted in blue. The pools so totally small it only fits one person at the time, which is all, just fine, as I really do want to be, left alone. At least, for the very moment, when I am feeling blue, brooding, within my few thoughts, which is really not a lot, but still, something, telling when surrounded, by all the blue. I really do enjoy, the blueness of it all, the water, the sky, the painted WHY on the wall. The colour of my t-shirt, jeans and even my eyes, all blue as am I. What ever it is, it’s gotta be blue, the coolest, and most calming hue. Like that of water. Water so fine, it is almost divine and that, makes me smile, even if I am so totally blue, it is almost transforming my very being to a translucent cool blue hue. But, more the blues, is really not that bad, as it does not have to be sad. Just blue, bluer and then I am turning to the bluest of them all.

Paradise in the colour of Blue

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“It looks like the picture-perfect version of a paradise, except it’s all in the colour of blue, but hey, that is simply my chosen hue” Gun Roswell

Paradise in the colour of Blue

What is the most sought-after place, either here on Earth or then somewhere else, even around in the galaxy, where all of us so hard try to find, that one perfect spot, where it all supposedly did start for our kind? The life, us, the animals, all the other beings including the aliens out there, which I know to exit, all the surroundings, even if the scientists might state, it was a some kind of a big bang of a thing, which created it all, like throwing in a ball, that split to a million pieces, leaving, all that you now see, behind?

Well, you may know it called simply, as Eden or some other cute name, now stalled, in some temporary time dilation field like this was a scene, straight out of some fantasy flick. But, it’s still there, in whatever shape or form, and, if you keep on looking hard enough and long enough, that one special spot, can be yours, no matter where or even when nor what colour it might exist in, you will know what it is, when you finally with your own eyes it witness, Paradise.

The blue wide open

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Sailing, into the blue wide open, to cure, all, of my ailing blues, failing, no matter how far I am sailing, now only to be continued, in the total blue, as it is eternal, for us, chosen few.

Blue on white, before the night

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“All is still, in the forest, before the fall of the night, at least, on the surface, it seems to be so“
Gun Roswell

Blue on white, before the night

Crispy and crunchy, the frozen flakes on the cold ground sounded, under the small steps
On the path of the searchers, which deep into the snowy white forest before night fall led
It was that time of the eve, where the silence too fell, just a little before the sun would leave
Making way for the moon to rise in the skies, but before that, a stand still on the low and high
A moment of true blue colours surrounding all those, who dared to follow the calls of the wild
Perfectly still, nature turning from white to the coolest of hues, from light blues to darkening night
Staying there until the moment had passed, only then venturing back home in the pale moon light

Blue seating, in a far away land

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“When the traveller is weary, she takes a seat wherever she can manage” Gun Roswell

Blue seating, in a far away land

The long time and now weary, traveller, had finally made it through
To this, far away and strange land filled with all things cool…

Well, at least, imagined the place, from the recesses of the mind
What ever was there, a faint memory even, at this point, was just fine
Because, as it mostly is done these days, all around the world
In reality, the only place you could totally off to get hurled
Would be that odd space, between your own sofa and the fridge
Never mind, going outside and crossing over, say, a tall bridge!

But, as usual, I tend to digress, so without further stress
Back to the topic of travelling, especially one done, in an armchair
In the comfort, of your own small or it might even big, lair
The images of beaches running on end, with blue skies and sun shines
Where each and every single day, life running, to its own accord
Never mind, that while, in a foreign land, for you, no chores!

Well, that is, since usually time away spent, is supposed to be some kind of holiday
When one actually, and physically, goes away and, in another and most likely rented home stays

But, enough of the commentary, as this poem is not going so greatly
As it was supposed to be about seating and travelling and going somewhere else, maybe eating
In a restaurant of choosing, yourself completely in the exotic foods emerging
And for that, picking up a respite, like a bench or a chair or similar seating
Then letting someone else do the serving and finally, after a moment, relaxing
Because hey, you just got out here, in this great place, where time stands still

So, for now, the virtual traveller has stopped, in her tracks, taking a breath deep
And finally letting out some of the slack on the chosen, blue and cool looking respite

Under the burning sun

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“It’s so hot and bright, it’s way too sunny, and I am not waring my shades!” Gun Roswell

Under the burning sun

The burning sensations on the pale skin
Some say, that being here, like this, is a sin
Stripped down to the very basics 
A layer of thin cloth strapped around the slick
Oiled up body now splayed for all to see
On this sandy and none too secluded sea

Yes, it is again that time of the year
When finally able to shed all that fear
Of wearing nothing but a skimpy outfit
Even if on a far away private beach
But the shame of it all has been stalled
As the sun beckons under its power to fall

No matter, if someone wants to run an tatter
A tale of the odd ones out there, under the sphere
Of the golden and oh so bright light
Laying there, all days on end, their times spent
In dull motionless moments, without moving 
The angry mockers their constant torment

But they do not care, of the long stares
Because this is the time for nothing
The nothing of the very moment spent
Under the lazy sun, without talking
Without thinking, simply laying, eating
Drinking, the troubles away, because hey!
It’s that time of the year!

Sunday Blue

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“Sunday was supposed to be the fun day, but it turned out to be a slump day, meaning I was slouching in my chair all day” Gun Roswell 

Sunday Blue

The day started just like any other day, with the alarm going off, much to my own dismay 
As even the sun was still asleep, and only stars to be seen, so, in bed still, had I intended certainly to be
It was definitely way too early, for anything else but feeling surly, even if my stomach of hunger was churning 
So what was I to do, except maybe, the weather gods to sue, for not giving me the needed light, for my day to guide
The only glimpse in this otherwise dull day, after checking the calendar, was that it was Sunday
So there really was no hurry, not even one slight worry, I needed somewhere to scurry, real quick, in a state of blurry

But, as I was awake, then getting up the only option, and venturing into the kitchen to make some concoction 
To start this seemingly already doomed end of the week, certainly, there was nothing for this day to seek, than maybe some time to sleep
Alas, this had not been the case, as I was now, somewhat fully awake, so from no on, I would just have to fake
To have a good time and enjoying my so called day off leisurely fun, but then there was the pun
As I was far too tired and annoyed to think of anything nice to do, so what happened next?
You guessed it! I was totally and fully engulfed, in the all consuming Sunday Blue!

Monumental on an Island so Blue

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“The island in the middle of nowhere, turned out to have so much more to give, than just a deserted beach side view“ Gun Roswell

Monumental on an Island so Blue

The small airplane, slowly landed, onto a narrow strip
As of this day, it is the start, of this one, and special trip
It was not expected, nor was it, really ever planned
But soon enough, the expedition will start, of this unknown land

A tiny island of a thing, was that a wish or a plea?
What on earth, could there really be, to see?
Jungle with buzzing insects, a small hut and no running water?
That were the best guesses, for this, well eternal explorer

Still, the hopes were up in the air
When entering on the promised fare
As this was some much deserved time off
From the daily huff and puff

But what then turned out to be
Anything and everything dull and bleak
Was an expedition, of profound proportions
Something not soon to be forgetting

The island, was anything but lacking
The options multiple with all amounts of trekking
Views and vistas filling the eyes and mind
There really was no other place like this kind

Monuments, art and history, and not forgetting the rest of it
Architecture, animals and people, never anything simple
Colour and nature, lush would be the most apt description
All of it so plentiful, the cameras memory filling as did mine

What was supposedly a dull few days of relaxation
Turned out to be so much more, on this little island
Where the time on strong and fast wings flew
On this, totally monumental even in the colour, of true blue

Blue, by the seashores of more

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“Nothing paints the feeling of longing and sadness better, than the colour of blue, right?” Gun Roswell

Blue, by the seashores of more

Autumn descended, over the land of green
The colours still vibrant, more gorgeous than ever seen
But, the one constant shade, in this, all
Whether winter, spring, summer of even fall
Is the one, of the coolest and deepest, of blues
Still, hovering, over the stormy seas, as the one true hue
The solemn colour of decor, clothing or even the mind
When the world around you, has not been, that kind

Alas, being blue, singing the blues, is not as bad as you may think
Especially, when reflecting the calm hue, over that kitchen sink
It is a reminder, of those warm and sunny lazy summer days
Where the time by the seashores of the more, were spent in a daze
Now, reminiscing, those nostalgic times, some bad some just fine
Some of them even spent, by the waters edge, sipping, cheap wine
So, if you now, decide to spend your time, in all the blues
Then hey, there are always silver linings, to each and every colour’s hue!

Nightfall in a blue moment

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“The nature, is always at its quietest and certainly best, come the blue moment before night fall“ Gun Roswell

Nightfall in a blue moment

The sun setting behind the ocean so vast
The earth once again feeling totally flat
The onlookers, in awe, simply admiring that
Which is the most powerful scene staring back

The blue hue descending across the land
Over the ground, water and skies it lands 
Painting all in its wake in a monochromatic shroud
And even in silence, the effect is really loud

There is nothing more to do before morning 
Just watching the spectacle in front unfolding
The brightness turning to blues without yawning 
And eventually into the darkness disappearing