A foggy day at the beach

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“No matter, sunshine or not, as it is almost summer, going to the beach is a must “ Gun Roswell

No matter the day or time or even season
There is an inherit urge to the point of treason
Against the odds that is, as it is, the beach
Is not accessible to most of us except during summer
Which is a big bummer, but then again, winter
Is the eternal splinter, with all the cold weather
Snow and such, most of us don’t really care about
Of course there is the options to carve a small hole
Into the ice if you are really feeling that kind of bold
And dive into the freezing cold of the water
And the running but naked into the hot and humid sauna
But, for now, it might not be the perfect kind of state
As spring and therefore summer are totally delayed
For a visit to the sandy shores, still, trying as one must do
Getting there, in the foggy kind of haze, finding the perfect place
And then laying down on the sun bed, even if clothed fully
In warm winter clothing, but it is already April and the beach?

Well, it may be out of reach for some time more
But hey, spending a day, even in the icy cold winds
It was still the beach and nothing or no one can deny
That I’ve got a huge big smile on my face just because, beach!

Monochrome in Barcelona

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“Looking up while seated in a bus, on the top deck no less, you will spot all kinds of interesting details!” Gun Roswell

Monochromatic
It’s really electric
Even with only a few colours
You can smell the odours
Of the world of greys
Where all the light
And even shadows stay

Monochromatic
Is the world often seen
But even the plain shades
From white to all the greys
The nuances are there
You just need to stare
And up they pop, in your face

Monochromatic
I am getting quite ecstatic
The dance of light
And the bass of shadow
Never me fail
Just letting it all go
The bright colours
Do not bother me anymore

Monochrome in Paris at night

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“The darkening night, with plenty of artificial light, something available in Paris only?” Gun Roswell 

The night upon, staying strong, the darkness never scary, so feeling daring, venturing into the streets of the city, because the lights are on, and there are plenty of, all kinds, the paths lit, to the hilt, and ain’t that just sweet, as this is, Paris, the city of lights, or something similar I think I once heard, but yeah, gorgeous, lively and totally cliche, but would not want to kiss any of it, the beat, the people, the ambiance. As only so, in the land of France.

Monochrome and the sunset

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“The sun is always setting, no matter whether in colour just might, even recorded in complete monochromatic format“ Gun Roswell

The sunset is always so totally beautiful and ever so colourful, and thus the experience of the various shades of oranges, yellows and reds, leave a good memory until the one coming next. But, then, when someone makes a change and the spectrum will change to pure grey, the monochromatic way of seeing things on display, what then of the beauty previously seen of this daily phenomena touching our personal screens, as usually, the flashy and burning colours were totally part of this, scheme for hooking up all to glare and cheer.

“Quite dull me thinks!” Some might say upon first glance, of the image taken from the sun setting over the horizon, as the greys may be a tad surprising, not really the full sparkling colours of the spectacle given by this star as going away for the night, which seemingly should be no surprise, but always is. But, after some time, the onlookers starting to see, the colours even if not quite there, in this monochromatic vision of the one who dared to make the decision and snap the image in black and white, even if it might just have given a fright, for most.

Monochromatic London Traffic

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“I never travel without my camera. One should always record one’s steps if nothing else than for the future reference, especially during the days of change, even if it’s only, in monochrome” Gun Roswell

Rain, rain, rain
But that dreaded and endless rain
Running down the very drain

But, around in the City of London
Without the feeling of any kind of boredom
As there are too many things to see
My little face, has finally lit up with a glee

Architecture and the Monochrome

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“Tall and statuesque, the building made out of glass and steel, the skies pierce with shear will or perhaps it was by design?” Gun Roswell

The greater beauty of the tall high rise
Is when something from the corner of an eye spies
The reflections from the higher skies
The mere stunning light of the sun shine

The colours may have faded
Into a few black and white shades
Some would even call it grey
But the impact remains the same

The tall buildings built in the present
Having the most of the times essence
Looking up in awe in feeble human existence
Standing before us all, without pretense

The modern marvels in monochromatic view
Never disappointing, never leaving in blues
Piercing the skies, this tall high rise
It has a face and a photogenic smile

A fortress in the snowy forest

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“Black and white is rather, abstract, agreed for sure, but still something quite tangible just like the fallen snow? Until it melts away!” Gun Roswell


Frost bitten branches and leaves
Above a small dwelling still heave
The wind cold and freezing
Breathing in the throat keeps on wheezing
“This weather, certainly takes your breath away”
Just be careful not too long to stay
Warm mittens and a thick coat
And certainly a woolen scarf for that throat

The silent forest of snow

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“In the past, life was black and white or at least some kind of greyish colouring scheme going on all around the place? I mean, they had yet to invent colour, right?” Gun Roswell


Winter continues with all its muster
Snow pouring down, faster and faster
The forest with its trees covered in light
Powdery crystals in the colour of white
A passageway in front quite clear
Do not hesitate or fear
Take a step into the wonder and delight
And soon you have something about to write

The snow covered trees

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“In the past, life was as black and white as that, right? Just check out the ole movies! Not a hint of colour!” Gun Roswell


Snow covering, all of the land
Just like designed and planned
The Winter’s hand
Lays heavily on each strand
Not one inch de-clutched
Not one place untouched
Nature has made its mark
With a white noiseless bark

Haiku for Cats

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“Yes, cats do understand poetry quite well, as a matter of fact, those felines be quite the poets and poetic as well! Just, listen to them spell!” Gun Roswell

Cat with various stripes smiles
Patrolling its territory large, no one denies
Afterward, nap time awaits winner
And then, a delicious dinner, with fish