Nightfall
Rolled in like a bowling ball
The sun tried it to stall
But failed as the moon called
Nightfall
Darkness ascended
The stars came out splendid
All calming, how could I really be offended
Nightfall
Almost time for sleep
But a few more glances into the deep
Skies of black and sparkling
Tonight I feel like a king
“The moon is always there, but now, in the darkened night, it’s visible again” Gun Roswell
Shiny objects in the sky
Was it an unidentified fly by
Or just the crescent moon up high
Shining its light in this fool’s eye
“The darkness follows the light, well, most of times, except up here in the North, during summer. Now winter, well, that is a whole different story!” Gun Roswell
Days thankfully long and filled with so much sunshine
That lazy me, can be splayed across the subbed ever so fine
The clouds above practically none existent and quite fluffy too
As there is nothing else to see above there except skies of blue
Well, maybe just another airplane landing bringing more of us
Whom are finally allowed to take a vacation on this same spot
Where the days meet the night, without any kind of fight
Where nothing is done except leisure just for the sake of pleasure
The long days, and short nights, spent, lazily under the sun
Or those with courage, hauling their asses to the beach
Where all kinds of waterspouts is just in a short reach
Describing this time out of the every day grind as everything fun
Hell yeah, day or night, it just is so unexpected but totally right
When there is little or nothing else to do around the poolside
Except spend it on yourself and those you care for in life
“The ominous forty-seven, keeps popping up everywhere, or maybe, it’s a good sign?” Gun Roswell
0:47
When the midnight struck
I was running out of luck
I needed to wait
Until, the time was something over forty-eight
But alas I did not well fair
As into the clock I stared
It kept on its timeless ticking
Slowly but surely flicking
And the endless count
As I started to have my doubts
Finally, the number four appeared
One, two, three, I feared
That the number of eight would never come
And just as I was about to cheer along
Time stopped:
Just, at zero zero forty-seven
Surely, this wasn’t, heaven?
“The reflections from the inside out and outside in, all coming together in a perfect mix“ Gun Roswell
The Looking Glass
The perfect view, from here to there and back again, the thin glass the only divide between, separating that which is here on the inside, to that which remains on the outside
Equal are they all in time, no matter where those left might reside, the reflections, as they are not there to divide, rather parse it all together, into a common guide
It’s all setting the scene, that not all as it was it seems, but whatever you want it to be, so do not trust your eyes, rather feel, the universe around you as nothing, is real.
“There is so much snow out there, too much, and it just keeps pouring… well, guess when it snows it pours!“ Gun Roswell
Snow, snow, snow and then some (night in Suburbia)
White for the season, yeah, for sure, the still fluffy stuff just keeps on coming down from the opened up skies, even in the middle of the night, in the small suburban place, where nobody and their small size dog really moves at the hour this late
Yeah, it is winter and smack middle of it too, but hey, having gotten enough of this stuff now for the month and a half, and it all seems to last, then the fun of it all surely starts to fade away, as all the work related to getting on with life, well, it can be such a strife
But, maybe in a month or two, the sun will find this small place once again, only hoping the warmth of it will be able to drive the cold, the snow and all of it, away, bringing in the spring, with multitude of colours and life, now dormant, starting all over again
“The glowing blue wheel brightening the darkest of nights“ Gun Roswell
The Glowing Blue Wheel
The blue against the black, against the backdrop of the darkened night sky, the wheel of somewhat fun, but also, the wheel of hope, at least for those, whom are in the total darkness lost, bringing light ever so far, and so bringing the hope, for them to find a way home, having stumbled in the long night for so long, their feet, none too strong, but as soon as the wheel is to be seen, they too know, not all is for good lost.
“Even in the darkness of night, there is plenty of artificial light, the signs lit, to the hilt, lighting the path of the nightly wonderer” Gun Roswell
Night Signs
Don’t worry about not seeing real good, when the darkness descends, because when you hit the streets, driving, walking, cycling, which ever format you may prefer, the lights of the signs, are there, all colours, shapes and sizes, keeping your path lit up without fail.
But even if they look all cool and making the rest assured, that the traveller will never fail on their path, stepping properly, during each pass, the skies will remain darkened, hardly ever light in there, as even the moon, may be hiding, not behind shroud of clouds, but rather, behind all the light reflected, back into the stratosphere.
And so, as a reminder, with all the artificial light scattered across the place, it will never replace, those wonders of seeing all the stars and planets, flashing their longs since dimmed light from a galaxy far far away, onto our paths.
“The night is a time to catch a glimpse to the slumbering city, lit up by artificial lights, shining ever so bright” Gun Roswell
City lights at night
The darkened places, where nobody stays at, not at this hour anyway, only a few strays, trying to make their way home, and then, the one who dares, to look for trouble, well, at least, snapping a few memories, of the city finally at peace, not really sleeping, but still, quiet and still.
And so, taking a walk around those streets, which usually are totally filled, with people, with cars, with life, during the time of light, are now sparse or rather void, of any kind of moving parts, as usually, some tend to sleep during the night, except perhaps a few whose work does not revolve around the clock.
The pix snapper moves on, catches the glimpses usually never seen during the light of day, and then, when all the empty space is spent, with a hint of a smiles, start making their long trek, back home, as there are pictures to share, with those soon waking up, with the sun.
“The darkening night, with plenty of artificial light, in Paris only!” Gun Roswell
Paris nights in Monochrome
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.
Rantings Of A Third Kind 