Sprout

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“The buds are changing into something completely different, like flowers and other wild things!” Gun Roswell

Sprout

What on Earth was all the ruckus about, just outside my very own window. It was like someone had stopped there to shout out loud, but why? Was the ground filled with snow? It as spring time and weather was simply fine as it was, so why all the fuss?

After all, it was that time of the year, when the ice had melted away and even the tiniest cracks on the ground, housed a bud or few way past their curfew and were ready at any moment to sprout. But that wasn’t any kind of reason to get too exited as this was part of the cycle of life.

I looked out and realised the shout, wasn’t coming from the outside, but from deep within myself as I had simply realised some things, unconsciously naturally. It was the day of June and all the hay, the flowers, had so totally conquered the world outside and without a doubt, I had now come to the conclusion, it was summer once again and out I too did sprout, just like those buds sleeping only yesterday.

Fields of summer

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“The summer is near, I can feel it in the air, and smell too!” Gun Roswell

Fields of summer

The spring came quite late as it seemed to hesitate, whether to arrive at all, or simply skip it over and move straight to fall. Alas, without warning, the temperatures jumped from practically zero to scorching. Or at least, that is how it felt for the unpractised Northerner, but soon enough, getting used to the tough change from zero to warm was upon and then, getting outside for the summery fun, with games and gardening, waiting to be done. The flowers in full bloom as the greeneries of the waste fields were grown fast and even the trees got their deserved lush cover as the leaves popped out from the tiny nubs, laying dormant for most part of the year. But not today as it was finally good enough to sprout out and give the humans their yearly show of the scenic greens across the fields and all over. Summer had finally arrived and that was worth a huge big smile.

The Pink Rose

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“The rose has a name, some name, which I don’t now recall, so a rose by another name I guess” Gun Roswell

The Pink Rose

The thorny side neatly hidden, as it was standing there, tall, fresh and pink, ready for others to get smitten, but the sheer beauty of it all. A perfect one of the lot, and whomever it passes simply has to stop, to admire, to adore, in total awe as there really are no visible flaws. And that fact alone will get the rose, several loud rounds of applause.

But, be warned, do not try to touch or pick the tall pink beauty up. Here is the catch, as you onto its thin and slender body latch, then a prick of the thorny side you will soon catch. Loosing some blood in the process, well, some might say it does not cause any soreness.

But as you leave the pink rose standing there, all tall and gorgeous, you know life after this will be quite different. As you feel the wide bleeding wound this gorgeous pink rose has left in place, which will never be repaired as this flower is for no one to ever keep.

A flower of the day

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“The flowers are still blooming” Gun Roswell

A flower of the day

The flower for today
Here on a nice display
Not a pretty little thing
Just a bad drawing
Done in haste
But did nit want it to go to waste
A naive painting
Will not be the zing
But if you gave a quirky smile
That will do for a while

Flowers and berries, oh my!

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“So many pretty things pop up during the summer season, the nature is unbelievably gorgeous all around!” Gun Roswell

Flowers and berries, oh my!

The pretty white flowers in the corners of the yards
You can walk alongside and get so very far
The endless fields of the flora of the season
What could be a far better reason
Than to venture outdoors and spend a day
In the great outdoors with a worry or care

The berries soon will be popping up 
The garden filled with all kinds in a huff
Just make sure to collect them all 
Before the arrival of the colliding fall
Then you have a supply for the winter long
To eat, bake and then you’ll grow strong!

But even without them fine berries
Just remember, the summer will be ending
Make sure you get out there once in a while
Before sitting inside leaves you in a puddle of bile
The most important thing about the season
Is to enjoy it freely without care or a reason

Raindrops on Petals

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“Gorgeous and complete balls of drops of rain fall” Gun Roswell

Raindrops on Petals

A delicate little thing
Was holding onto the bling
A gorgeous tiny and round
Lucent ball which it found
Falling down from the heavens
As they opened up at eleven
When a flush of rain
Flushed away the stains
Off the delicate petals
Of the flowery vessels
Like pieces of fine jewellery
Adorning with illusory
For the onlooker odd
Might seem a bit off
Eventually the drops will fade
As the rain sometimes fails
And sunshine takes its place
But the combination
Of rain and sunshine
Will keep the flower’s petals
Completely divine

Harvest Bees

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“Gathering nectar from the flowers in the garden, quite smart” Gun Roswell

Harvest Bees

When the day begins
The garden alive, almost like spring
The birds in the trees sing
Their song, most likely, of the pending fall
As they sit and sing, in the trees tall
Sitting, in my solemn seat
Watching, the life on display, such a treat
With the smells and monotonous sounds
Everywhere, to be found

And then, comes, the annoying buzzing
As if someone started, really loud humming
Breaking, the calming routine of it all
Just as I, was thinking, the time had stalled
They are so loud, even if their bodies are quite small
They fly by, really, really fast
Like some kamikaze planes, from the past
And finally landing, onto the flowers pretty
Suckling in, all the nectar, really quickly
Clearly, the harvest time, for our winged friends
As their hive, on this precious food source, depend
Gathering it all ,with professional precision
Then bringing it back, for the queen’s decision
As to whom shall be rewarded, with the nectar of gods
That scene would indeed, be, an interesting thing, to blog

Autumn Garden Bliss

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“It is harvest time, in the garden, and not just for us humans” Gun Roswell

Autumn Garden Bliss

Behind, the lush grown, hidden small size gates
A tiny, really old dwelling, the on looker baits
And, for the odd traveller, just passing by
To simply dare, to step, inside
For there is nothing more alluring, than the unknown and divine

The cottage, once, in screaming bright red painted
But now, mostly, the exterior’s inviting flash, is all faded
It is as quaint as the trimmings of the windows
But still standing strong, even after all the wind blows
And into the past, the history, it invites to explore

Guarded, by the tiniest of inanimate gnomes
Sitting there, in a solemn quiet and an orderly row
They seem smiling and totally life like
And, if you dare to misstep, then you will feel their spite
For they are the guardians of the cottage’s life

The trees, now filled with apples, oranges and berries
After all, it is that time, most of us cherish
The Autumn falling slowly, onto the waiting land
With all the colours so bright, you can hardly stand
Foliage, they dwellers say, and then, offer you a hand

It is now, near harvest time, for both the bees, birds and human kind
Every single living thing gathering their reward, knowing, they have scored
When their stomachs are filled with delicious nectar and food
From apples, oranges, berries, and all, who can really and honestly choose!
So step into the world of wonder, you really have nothing to lose!

It’s a Bees Life

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“It looks so cool to be able to fly around all the time” Gun Roswell

It’s a Bees Life

It’s a fun way of life
Life, up in the skies
Skies, so blue it’s almost, untrue
Untrue, as I seem to be
Be, as I am a flying bee

From flower to flower I pop
Pop, and open up each lot
Lot, are there to choose from
From, each and every one
One, or more I drain from

Flying, buzzing, never stopping
Stopping, only for some shopping
Shopping, for the nectar I need
Need, as my queen I will feed
Feed, until she can no more eat

It’s a bees life
Life, without a strife
Strife as the humans see it
It, well, hey shit!
I might get stomped on!

Monochromatic Madness

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“Let’s try to see the world in black and white today” Gun Roswell

Monochromatic Madness

Today I see everything, in black and white

Why?

I just guess I was too tired, to argue, what is wrong and what is right?
And the n finally, giving up the eternal fight:

Of constantly proving, that other colours do exist
But, that you, just have to, really let
Them inside of your own, tiny and closed world
And then completely, in to the colours get hurled

Because, building up a view, of two colours only
Might end up being, a scene much too lonely
But if you are willing, to sink in there boldly
Then, whenever you find yourself, in total dismay
You just might end up, seeing all the shades, of grey

The nuances of the monochromatic
Some of them, are oh so dramatic
And soon, you realize, it’s not so bad after all
It’s actually quite the opposite, even fantastic!

So, I guess, when the two or more colours mix
A gorgeous pallet of various shades does exist
And it’s all, going to be really, really great!
And that’s what matters after all, in the end!