All that red, makes you, well, happy?

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“Red, is a colour so bright, you almost don’t need a light in the darkness to steer by, but it looks, pretty, right!?” Gun Roswell


When the mundane Monday raises its grey and dull head
Why not sprinkle some fun and colour up in the air instead
Maybe put some deep red on an old house
Otherwise sticking out like a sire louse


Even paint the barn door
In the colour most of us adore
And when completed all them upgraded and some leftover paint remains
Head on, to the garden and slap on a coat of smarting
Onto, the tiny windmill, always giving the chill, even warning
When the wind blows or then if it sometimes storms
So, now, definitely going strong
Simply because, red, has the perk on
This mundane Monday, not any more glum
But really starting to be fun!

A cottage, in a tree? Surely not!

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“Sometimes, one wants a home to be as cozy as that, and preferably situated on the highest top of them all” Gun Roswell

Red, yellow, any other colour, or maybe even painted black
The choices for living, really do not lack
Going around and around, never once looking back
As one, after the other, is so much better, than the last
But, for only one week at the time
Spending, my vacation, nearly, on a dime
Even the weather, is ever so fine

Homes of all colours and sizes

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“Wherever you may dwell, it’s hopeful it’s the place where you really want to be in” Gun Roswell


Homes from yesteryear
Homes for the modern dweller
Homes with modern gear
Homes even worth a thriller
All of them found
Near by and all around
Those homes for many or the one

Ever Upward towards the Clouds

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“The chairs are leading upwards, towards the skies perhaps? Or at least, to the above floors of the house” Gun Roswell

Ever Upward towards the Clouds

The stairway either with a banister or not, made out of metal, stone or wood, leading the climber ever upward, unless they are on their way down. But mostly the spectators interest lies on the way towards the skies.

But to what kind of end? What could possibly be the goal achieved in getting here? Why would one want to get ever up higher? Are they trying to reach the skies or something else, somehow similarly compliant?

Maybe they are looking for some hidden treasure? Hidden on top of the low hanging clouds, which the skies are some days in shrouded? 

What of the fact that it is a cloudless clear day? Would it serve any kind of purpose in trying to get up there, without one single cloud in sight? Doing the upward fight simply out of spite? Just because it is there, the stairs?

Whatever the reason might just be, for those whom a higher ground might just seek, even if a tactical stance in mind, it does not matter, as we don’t need to know, as long as we can wait for them back, here below.

Secret Hideaways

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“Lush greens, do cover so many things, homes even, dwellings for those who don’t want to be seen” Gun Roswell

Secret hideaways

The red coloured houses, would usually indicate a stop sign, an x marks the spot type, to more like come find us, we are here, come see who we are, step inside our house!

But, the colour is well hidden, behind the lush green scenery. Hard to find, even at first glance, the small dwellings, even in the middle of the busy neighbourhood, there really is no reason why pass by you simply could.

Alas, with a careful eye, some of us spy, behind the leaves several well hidden lairs, but, being courteous, never wondering close enough, only taking a small peek, at what there just might be.

Abandoned, not forgotten

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“The houses of the past, made to last, except they were abandoned, by those who lived there, and no longer want them” Gun Roswell

Abandoned, not forgotten

Those pesky old homes, without a the glitter or domes, abandoned they stand, without any helping hand, refusing to go down, to crumble, because they were made to last, even if those dwellers did not last, rather past by, the houses not nye, and so, leaving to their own devices, to die in the process, but refusing to do so, only waiting, dormant, for some other kinds of beings for there to stay.

The ol’yellow house

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“The old house painted in flashy colours, inviting to say the least, so let’s step inside and see, what the fuss is all about” Gun Roswell 

The ol’yellow house

Step right in, it’s open house today, all of this gorgeous yellowness is on for display, take a good look all around too see what interesting things in the ol’ yellow house can be found. After all this an archaic house, filled with hidden traits, trinkets and such, just at the very reach for those whom carefully seek. So, don’t get so bleak, rather step through the door and see what the yellow house has in store for you this time around.

Take a chance while you can, as the ol’ yellow house, might just be but a dream, not really what it seems and do, gone before you realize, as you walk through that door and take a  good long stroll around the whole thing, it may be round like a ring, or then square like the box in, well town’s square. But whatever you can imagine, it will be there waiting there for you and so, stay a while, to get that smile on your face, because the next thing which will happen is, that you will wake up and  it’s all gone. No more yellow house as it was all a simple dream.

Reaching for the skies and extended life, island style

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“The old buildings are fascinating on so many levels” Gun Roswell 

Reaching for the skies and extended life, island style

On the very much deserted island, there is still some life left, as the breathing wooden buildings, tell their stories without yielding, to the inevitable decay, but standing tall against all odds nature might throw their way. Built a century ago, for those, whom dared to venture out in the unknown, life in the wild, or at least that is what it was like, back then, as this barren place was certainly not a heaven’s sent. So today only the wooden made shacks remain, to tell the story of the past, which should only in the history books last. Alas, the houses have decided differently, remaining in tact stubbornly, as if nothing, human or nature can do, to make them in the mood, of giving in. No, the are a testament to anyone, proof of durability that can, surpass time and space, as they stay, now and forever, the same.

Splash off the wall in total colour

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“One needs a hint of colour in the midst of all the grey, am I right?” Gun Roswell

Splash off the wall in total colour

The paint brushes swirling left and right, up and down, around and around
As the painter concentrated, with gusto, in the job with a wide upside frown
This case was a happy occasion, refurbishing old houses without hesitation
As the full and plush colours, quickly appeared, onto the dull canvas cleared
Painting, the minds image to a well loved and cared for housing project to reflect
After such a long time having been left in total and utter neglect now being resurrect
Completing the task in minimal time, and the end result turning up more than fine
The bright and bolds, done with what some might say, something of eye sores
As the could now easily be spotted from miles away and then some but never more bores
But hey, who ever said life or in addition, the outer walls, oh an old but new home
Should be, anything, but dull, and so, the artist doing their thing, went on completing
The paint job they had been commissioned to do with a touch of spring

Stacked, piled, on top of each other

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“They really are all on top of each other! How can they get into their houses then?“ Gun Roswell

Stacked, piled, on top of each other

The dwellings of the local villagers 
Upon a steep hillside subside
The colourful small decorated houses
Are the homes of people and their, well mouses
(yes i know the plural is mice, but could not make it rhyme ;P)

Built on top of each other
Maybe, as some kind of cover?
To be on the safe side of the divided
The construction workers decided
There is security in numbers some put
And they all knew then what they do should
And then, they put each of the homes
On top of the other in a shape of a dome
So now, the happy inhabitants
Live together, but still separate
Happy, with their daily lives
And also, naturally, do the mice!