The Calming of Sundays

“It’s always calmest before the storm, that’s why they call it Sunday” Gun Roswell

The Calming of Sundays

The presence of calm today is lulling me to false sense of security
As, today is Sunday, I know with almost a hundred percent certainty
That it is only a fake state
Before it is too late
For me to realize
That Monday, is once again upon us
Thus, bringing the horrific storm of fuzz
The weekly strugle, the mundane strife
The grind which all of us want to escape
But, on this day, on this hour, it is much too late
The holy weekend is over
As the darkening clouds start revolving
Over our tiny heads evolving
Bringing forth images do scary
It is a miracle any of us survive
Live throughyhe night as the winds are howling
Your very essence scowling
Preaparing for the worst to come
And leaving you stunned
Too nervous to think or move
Yes, the weekly grind, the huge storm
Definitely, has you schooled
To be, act and live
By only its one rule
At least, Monday through Friday
During the weekend
It’s not a concern, how your time is spent

Blue Beach

“Lay under the blue sky on the cool sand” Gun Roswell

Blue Beach

Why don’t you, come on over,
To this place special, where
The Heavens meet the Earth
This, is the end, of the search

A place where, all that is lost, is found
A place where, the skies are the same as the ground
A place where, time stands still
A place where, there is only need for one skill

Enjoy the life that exist in the here and now
Of the time for freedom and being proud
Of the time for celebrating and singing
Of being what you are, as you come so far
Simply enjoy yourself, in the here and now