Friday; forever on my mind

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“End of the week?” Gun Roswell

Nearing, the end of the work week
Thursday, is not really what I seek
Friday, that would be much better, you do see?
But, let’s not let that be the chime
For the stop of all the fun time
Only, one more day to go
And, then, it’s time to start the show
A, weekend, a full two days
Just ahead, and much to do, in so many ways

So, why, do I live this way?

The week only spent for work and blunder
Always, someone stealing my thunder
Is it really so stranger, if I am an eternal dreamer
And keep looking forward to the only true wonder
The two days filled with joy and magic
These times made out of pure bliss
I have often had to really insist
To ban the other days completely of the list
Jump from Sunday back to Friday
Since that is the day, my day, when I get my way

Waiting for the working week finally to end!

Friday and the Cup of Coffee

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“The day of free, well Friday at least, is upon us and what better way to celebrate than with a nice cup of coffee, right?“ Gun Roswell

Friday and the Cup of Coffee

Friday, is here and so, a giant enormous cup of coffee is poured, simply because, it is the best way, to celebrate, the fact, that the weekend is upon, even if the day itself and the coffee, really do not make any sense, but then again, coffee, goes with everything and nothing, and if I feel like it is the very thing, to be used for some minor celebratory action? Well, then, who will stop me?

So, now that it is all settled, I too, will settle, with my feet up, without too much of a huff or puff, and watch the weekend silently descend upon my very self, of course, enjoying my big cup of the finest organic suspension ever devised and that is all I am going to do, over this weekend of free, and if some of you disagree, feel free, to sue me!

Friday, and the Coffee Break

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“There is always time for a coffee, or two, or even more. Heck! I could drink coffee all day long! So, just, plug me in, please!“ Gun Roswell

Friday, and the Coffee Break

The working week, once again, totally spent, in a mostly blurry bend
Without so much, as a good, relaxing break or even, a full nights rest
The only, and never changing constant, in this, whirlwind of a, well, quest
Is the one dark, strong and yes, even dubbed golden, liquid, to digest

But, not each and every stop mark, was, such a success
As sometimes, the days, got to be, a total and utter mess
When getting, that one precious cup, or maybe two, or even a few
Was skipped due, to all them urgent tasks, always, overdue

Luckily, surviving, like always, the week, from Monday, even, to this, Friday
Before, the weekend’s full and awaited release, in front would be lain
Some other types of liquids, certainly none, as tasty and good made
More like a big beast, completely opposing the elixir of life, now, finally slain

So, today, on this, day of Friday, the one day, where running around
Like some kind of beheaded poultry or maybe even, a mad cow
As all the consuming hustle and bustle, is finally toning down
And then, having, “so much” of that time, simply, to get unwound

But maybe, just maybe, skip all them scheduled, planned, awaiting other activities
Forget about all mind numbing, and lip downward curling negatives
When finally, seated, in peace, with a large cup, of that sweet, sweet release
Downing it all, in one, big gulp, and then quickly adding, another full cup
As celebrating, the week’s end, with some much deserved and great coffee!!!

Friday does come, but only once in a week!

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“Thank goodness, it’s finally Friday, ’bout bloody time!” Gun Roswell

Friday does come, but only once in a week!

Friday, at last, this week, could not have gone any faster
Faster, as I very well know, will this day end too
Too, and then “boohoo” I cry, but hey, that is just fine
Fine, as I know, there will be another Friday
Friday, which unfortunately only comes, one a week

Week, is such a dreary measure
Measure, like a year or even a hundred
Hundred, is the number of the percent
Percent, which I always give this day
Day, unlike so many others consists of hope
Hope, so hard to find these days
Days, gone by, but hopefully plenty ahead
Ahead, like the word hope, wish, what ever
Ever, I wish Friday here to stay
Stay, please stay, I totally pray
Pray, like you are a deity or something so great
Great, better than anything else
Else, is where I usually am
Am, exist, being, living, solely for Friday
Friday, oh how I love you
You, this, feeling which you can only bring
Bring little ol’ me, each and every week
Week, oh, were are back to this again
Again, and in circles I run until
Until I come to the end of this poem
Poem, so yeah, guess I have a thing for Fridays then!

Eerie on a Friday

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“Friday’s are inheritable freaky, aren’t they? Hence the term, Freaky Friday, because you’ll never know, what kinks the weekend may bring…” Gun Roswell’

Eerie on a Friday

The early hours of the morning
Came, with a dire warning
The powers that be, were none too happy
And sending down, weather oh so crappy
Which was their way of utter kind of revenge
On to the lowly populous down on the ground now clenched
There was no sunshine to be seen
Alas also, no stormy clouds, on the skies kind of pristine
Only an eerie, soggy, all compassing shroud
Could be felt, across the people, the land, and all around
The visibility next to none
The kids, gloomy, loosing their fun
What kind of living could this be
Since there was nothing or no one to be seen
Yielding to their horrific fate
The dwellers down below resorted to prays
Trying their all to sooth down the tall
For several long hours of wait
The gods above, started to hesitate
Maybe then had been way to harsh
For the people living on the soggy marsh
Waving their hands of power
The fog, the mist, the eerie, was soon devoured
By a low glowing ball like thing
The light, which softly stated to sing
The surroundings soon starting to change
Into something more pleasant with less pain
The people below now thanking the gods above

A lesson with great price learnt
As the message “Never again, take you weather gods for granted”, was sent

Snowed in on a Friday

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“Maybe, this is the last of the snow for this year?” Gun Roswell

Snowed in on a Friday

The snow started falling
Just around when midnight was calling
It just kept on pouring
Until the ground was souring
With powdery white stuff
Nobody knowing if it was enough
But someone said, shut up
And then we watch as the snow kept on coming
Then soon enough, none of us was humming
The piles on piles of snowflakes
Even covered the small watery lake
No matter where you watched
Nothing, no nothing remained untouched
The world was covered in this, thing
Even the bird stopped to sing
Most likely going to hiding
Worried what they might not be finding
The chewy worms in the ground
Because that was no longer to be found
The only thing alive
Was the white snow which came from above

Boating Friday

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“When Friday arrives, we’ll get on with the jives and then out there, on a boat fly” Gun Roswell

Boating Friday

When the waters are us beckoning
With their crystal clears and totally blues
There is no point in resisting
Just put on some casuals and also the mood
It’s the end of the working week for some
And that always means, a lot of Friday fun
As in to the harbour’s hustle and bustle
We are steering ourselves with working muscles
Soon the boats are filled with passengers
All of us, who are here for the adventures
Well, at least for a day or two
Because usually it happens, really soon
That Monday is at the doorstep awaiting
And for us that means no second, no hesitating
Alas, let’s enjoy the forty-eight hours or so
Before back to the dread we must go

Friday, the 13th

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“Happy Friday the 13th. Satan just texted me, saying, to watch my back…With one of those smirky emojis at the end.”

Friday, the 13th

The tale told below
Was it based on a true story?
Or just pure fiction?

That, my dear reader
Is for the writer to know
And for you to enjoy!
As I arrived in the office, the place seemed more quiet than usual. At least this early in the morning. Sitting in my seat, pondering, where everyone else were.

No emails, no calls
No contacts at all
Had I mistaken?
Or too early awoken?
Was this a wrong day?
A Saturday, a Sunday?

Thinking about it, the traffic had been oddly light.
Even though it had been early morning time.

After a few hours of waiting in solitude, people I had never seen, entered the room.
Talking in strange languages, sounding like a record been played back the wrong way.
I was observing them. They did not seem to notice me.

Passing me by
Wondering why
Seemed like a dream
So unreal did it seem

I tried to greet one of them. I kept repeating
Hello, hello, HELLO!

But unnoticed
Even by the closest
Visitor did I go

Getting irritated, I did no longer hesitate.
Jumped in front of the nearest stranger.
I did not feel I was in any danger.
Waved my arms and shouted.
Like a mad person undoubted

But nothing, no nothing stirred the strangers.
As if I wasn’t even there…

Maybe, just maybe
I had turned invisible
Or maybe,
It was all, just a dream

After all
It was Friday the 13th!

Serene Friday

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“The poet does not fear death, not because he believes in the fantasy of heroes, but because death constantly visits his thoughts and is thus an image of a serene dialogue” Salvatore Quasimodo

serene-1

Serene Friday

Treasure
Peace, love, happiness and all good things
Because
You’ll never know, what curveballs life may bring

Fav Foto Friday (2018-09-06)

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Posted in Fav Foto Friday 

“Photography takes an instant out of time, altering life by holding it still” Dorothea Lange’

Favourite Photo Of the Week

On the way to Peru
Or possibly Katmandu
Onto a side track we flew

Soon enough, in a locale new
With a cloudy blue hue
And a gorgeous mountain view