Gloves in Red

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“It’s a vibrant colour for sure.” Gun Roswell


“This is when the gloves come off!” She stated with a huff and puff.

Throwing down the protective shielding onto the ground, she was about to defy all beliefs of what would happen when exposing yourself to the elements.

It was that time of the year, when the cold season had taken over. There was no hiding from the white powdery substance covering most of the northern world. The only thing to do to survive was to put as much woven garments on top of the skin as possible. The degrees sinking down below zero in the tens, sometimes even hundreds, this season lasted for a length of six moons.

But those damn mittens! How they irritated her, especially today. They were always in the way. Grabbing things was not easy, not to mention holding a shovel.

She looked at the discarded gloves laying on the ground. Red against the whitest of snow. Pretty were they, she thought and kept staring at them, while her fingers were getting numb. Finally, as beckoning her, she scooped the offending mittens from the pile of snow, pulled them on and admired the colour and the feel of them.

Once again, she was happy in her gorgeous red mittens.

Red, red, red and then some

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“It’s gorgeous to say the least, the red colours of autumn here us to please!” Gun Roswell

Roses are red
And violets are blue
That may be true
But also
The leaves
Of the Autumn
As they heave
Bright red
In the sunlight
Before turning
Well falling
Onto
The ground
How does that sound?

Hanging low, the sunset is

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“It is once again that time of the year when the sun will fear the upon coming of winter, laying low during the day and even when setting, but it’s so red and pretty!” Gun Roswell

End of the day will come no matter the times. 

It can be a little later or even earlier depending on the seasonal chime.

For the late autumn or fall, the light of the day will try to stall.

But never winning against the night the darkness soon upon.

The sun though never faltering its stance no matter the dance.

Late in the year or early in the hours of the new morn’.

The rays will remain there on the surface just one more moment time to

Red

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“Fire and fury, that is the colour, right?” Gun Roswell

Red, like a glorious sunset
Red, like the face after a long fight
Red, fierce, fabulous, jaw-dropping
Red, just like my very own life?

But, it’s all… red!?!

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“Something to be said about very bright colours, especially red – is it a warning, or did someone set the thing on fire? Maybe just take it as face value, see what it really is – a brightly red painted object, to be more precise!” Gun Roswell

red


“I see… red”
Said the confused Ted
As toward the ole shed
Painted in very bright red
He into quickly fled

Unfortunately
A simle fence,
Also, painted in the same red
Made his very trek
Quite short instead

Look, across the street, a place to sit?

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“There is always something more interesting on the other side of the street” Gun Roswell 

The red bench totally beckoned for the traveler to take a step across the street and make themselves a seat out of the hand carved  reddish beat, but yeah it was totally screaming while beaming there, waiting for someone to take the step, closer to it, take a load off, and for a while sit, a perfect fit, for anyone appreciative of a bright and happy colour, spreading the aura all around of cheer, and those having taken the seat even for a while will most certainly leer long after the fact.

The red bench for a respite

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“Sit down, take a load off, it’s just a colour, even if painted boldly” Gun Roswell

The only bright spot
In the entire parking lot
In the midst of suburbia
Causing a minor hysteria
The colour of reddest red
Some say, it joy may spread

Carefully trying to sit
Just to see, if it is a fit
After I little while
I started to smile
The colour seemed to be
A perfect choice for me

And soon enough…
As far as the eye could see
All the red painted seats
Were occupied to the extreme

There is just something to be said
Of the colour red
It never leaves you cold
Yes, and I too was sold

R is for Red

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“The colour so vivid, so vibrant, like it’s on fire, gorgeous reds all around!” Gun Roswell

Roses are red
And violets are blue
That may be true
But also
The leaves
Of the Autumn
As they heave
Bright red
In the sunlight
Before turning
Well falling
Onto
The ground
How does that sound?

Red is the House

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“The house just on the corner there, is painted in red, how nice!!” Gun Roswell

The old-style house on the hill
Against the back drop it just chills
Never mind the construction
It has always avoided destruction
Sitting so pretty, in another wise (shitty)
New style concrete block environment
The red house is surely gets its adornment

A contrast, built to forever last
(Maybe some fixing needed, the owner admits)
But so cute, so rare
It must be spared!
The tiny red house on the hill with a mouse
And in this image still, it looks like the house
Made for Jack and Jill 
(or Juliet and Jill or Jack and Gill, which ever you prefer)
For everyone really, in it to chill
So, come on in, have a coffee
They even server baked muffins with toffee!

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!