“There are secrets behind all windows, dare to peek inside?” Gun Roswell
The secret on the other side of the window
The split glass window on the mysterious looking wall Was inviting passersby curious enough to explore To take a long peek of what might lie behind the sleek And small size but still perfectly cut to fit squares Hardly even see through but inviting nevertheless To bring forth the underlying adventurer and dare devil And to seek out what ever mystery there was to uncover Behind those four individual blocks of tainted glass Because this game was about to begin and those on board Would be assured a play of a life time when the chime Dinged three times and then, there would be no turning back As stepping through the window made of four blocks of glass Was a portal to the unknown, to be now known to the those Daring without scaring venturing into the world beyond
“The Sunday always brings out the artistic side of me or at least, the art buyer that is” Gun Roswell
Painting on the streets on a seat Sunday
The non too busy shopping streets on a Sunday afternoon is what most leisure shoppers seek. The peace and quite, simply to take the time to browse around the produce on sale, especially all of those handcrafted details. The painters there too, conjuring the caricatures of the odd passersby, most of the artwork done with a smile. And then making a sale of the same, both parties happy with the end result without blame. And one other thing seems to be common for both seller and punter, the eternal bargain hunter, is that of the afternoon sun, and when it gets too hot to be walking around, a cool and calming respite is the only thing to be sought, as it is something which easily cannot be bought. And a seat in the shade, well that is like winning a small lottery or top price to be gained and then, spending the rest of the day, on a seat without complaints, well, that is what Sunday is all about without a doubt.
“Roses of any colour are so gorgeous, even in black and white poses” Gun Roswell
Roses in monochrome pose
The neatly made arrangement, in the tall vase Making sure, the flowers, in an orderly stance stay The fresh cut stems, certainly trimmed to fit As all the colourful, roses inside of it neatly sit
The pose, so completely natural, it’s almost second nature The plush petals trimmed, to reminisce that of a statue The strong yet delicate odour, filling, the surrounding air As such is the nature, of this ever so romantic floras flair
Even, when stripped all the way down, to the bare basics The lush colours, the volume, and all other imaginable clicks These, as the most beautiful roses, still stand tall in their form Grey in colour now, but, that could have easily been the norm
But, it does not really matter in the end, too much really Whether the image can be seen sharp, or even so clearly And certainly no kind of colour, even black or white Can bring out the very essence or do just justice To this, entity, of a gorgeous rose, always, shining brightly
“Ain’t nuttin’ wrong with a wee bit if rain, to wash away all of them stinky stains, which all over remain, after, well everything” Gun Roswell
The rain and the blurry
The everyday people, on the streets scurry Causing, the image take, to get really blurry As not all of them, seem to be in such a hurry Or then, it is simply, the ever falling rain Making all the motions of everyone, exactly the same Fusing into one and other, on the busy lanes Causing all the pictures momentarily seen, to each other blend But, there is no more time, on this specific scene to spend Even if I would get an umbrella from someone as a lend It would be impossible, to escape the downpour The only option would be to pray for sunshine or something more Alas, for now, the weather as is, even though a spot sore Will have to do as the allotted time is of the essence As in this place my current presence Will need to be hauled out in a few more seconds So, what ever needs to be captured, during this time Whether the images blurry or then simply, just fineI have done the job I needed to do, to get by And so, for now, I am outta here!
“Fall colours in black and white! How odd!” Gun Roswell
Monochrome Magic (3)
Hiding leaf
A half rotten leaf Hang on to the tree So strongly willed That even the chills Of autumn weather Could not breach the tether As strong as the mighty oak It was grabbing on Some said, it was a joke Nothing could survive The circle of life
“Well,” said the lone leaf “In your face Mother Nature, Serves you to let your hatred Leashed onto a poor piece of dying matter But now I am finally striking back at ya So, deal with it, For I ain’t taking shit I’ll be here Way until next year!”
“Fall colours in black and white! How odd!” Gun Roswell
Monochrome Magic (2)
Berried treasure
On the strongest of tree branches A bunch of free range berries launching Their planned dive, several feet high Plunging into the ground below With sounds loudly thundering Making the earth tremor and wondering Wether an earthquake of a great magnitude Hit the surroundings without prelude
“Fall colours in black and white! How odd!” Gun Roswell
Monochrome Magic (1)
A frozen rose
Even the strongest and prettiest rose Did in the cold temperatures freeze into an eternal pose Preserved, for a longest of time In the most natural cryogenic slime With a mixture of pure clean water and the weather The gorgeous flower has now finally been tethered To the very ground, it once proudly sprout from A preserved three dee image, now never gone
“The cat sat, in the middle of the road, staring, watching, keeping an eye on her domain, smart!” Gun Roswell
The cat in the middle of the street
The grey coloured cat, look at that Staring us mere Hoomans, right in the eyes
“What on earth”, I huffed, “can she be up to?” “Is she, the much talked about spy?”
The cat did not budge, not one inch, that runt We tried to pass, twice, from left and then from the right But nothing, no not one thing, made this cat twinge So the only option now, would be reasoning? Meow?
“Hey there, little kitty cat, would you think we could possible pass?” I frustrated then asked
The cat just stared at me, as if asking, where the heck is my fee And as if understand the thinking, of this freakish feline, I replied
“Oh, of course, you want a reward, because you know Keeping this street safe from all kind of beings awkward.”
Stating that was like stating the obvious, which I have a knack for So before I realised what I was doing, I was headed towards the nearest store Searching for the best thing, which I could make the guard kitty sing I immediately spotted the cans of tuna, sitting in the stands (Really? Did the shopkeeper and the cat have a secret deal?)
Happily after buying in bulk, back into the street I stalked Seeing the cat there, watching, knowing, heck, most likely humming How much of a sucker the poor Hoomans be But hey, that is just fine for me, as the cats are doing a great job indeed
“Hey kitty,” I cooed slightly
With an open can of fishy smelling treat I hoped and preyed this food would do the thing And as I saw the grey coated cat saunter towards me Carefully and slowly, finally stopping at my feet The signal there was pretty clear:
“Ye shall pass, now that I have my catch!” As if the cat would have said would it actually talk
So, now, watching the cat starting to eat I quickly made my way across the very street I had been granted access by one simple and tiny act To give a thanks and a reward where it was totally apt
“You can mostly find them in packs, but today, they all travel in twos” Gun Roswell
Two cats a fishing
The cat with bold black and white stripes, all of her competition wipes But the cat with simple coloured patches, usually the most fish catches As the duo, of the two cats, out there into the harbour venture daily Making sure the fish population gets a treatment, not always fairly
They like to sit by the seashore, watching life until they get bored But when the hunger beckons, both of them at the same time reckon It is time to pull out the big guns once again, before the afternoon is spent Both glaring, intently into the seemingly calm surface staring
A splash, a meow and a few seconds later, the catch A few more of the same, because no one them really can blame One little fishy just ain’t enough, because you’ll never know if the going gets tough So having a spare, is good thinking without scare
Several moments past, the two fishing cats Are finally happy with their hard earned catch Hauling the loot away, to their secret hideaway Where happy munching sounds, fills the air out loud
Rantings Of A Third Kind 