Red, sunset

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“The time of the year when the sun will fear the coming of winter, laying low during the day and even when setting” 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 stall.

Red Sunset

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“The sun is setting, and painting the skies all in shades of red, rather picturesque!” Gun Roswell

The evening sky painted red
Unfortunately it was time for bed
But chose to go out instead
And admire the colourful display
Mother nature had sprayed
From her can of colourful paint
Snapped a few pix
Just for the kicks
Before the nightly eclipse

Another sunrise?

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“So, this is a surprise for sure! Another sun, is on the rising? Well, at least one up there, but yeah, it’s going to do it again today, so precious much?” Gun Roswell

Sunrise, higher than high
In the early September sky
Over the morning clouds
The sun has spread its shroud
Blues and reds playing in a mix
Eyes staring completely transfixed
The cool crisp air caressing
Almost feels like singing a song
Just because

The Red Sky in the Evening

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“The sun is setting, the skies looking like a painting, with so much of the colour of red used, well, it’s gorgeous so who am I to complain?” Gun Roswell


“The sky is on fire, the sky is on fire!”

The peasant from the ancient times shouted
As the red clouds into the skies sprouted
Running as fast as he could
Before the skies on him fall would

Simply out of fear
Not knowing of the beauty so near
Shivering in his cellar
Like an old yeller

Some hundreds years later
Not a sunset hater
Eagerly awaiting
A sunset most breathtaking

Red as in Sunset

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“The sunset painted the sky red” Gun Roswell

Hot ball of fire high up in the skies

A rounded ball
Ball of fire
Fire so strong
Strong enough to keep going
Going for an eternity
Eternity lasting for a day
Day of light
Light of the sun
Sun now setting
Setting until dawn
Dawn awaited for the night
Night so dark
Dark as the black skies
Skies soon turning
Turning to the blues
Blues before the light
Light so bright
Bright as the sun
Sun giving life
Life going on below
Below on the ground
Ground never the skies
Skies are so high
High as the stars
Stars cannot be reached
Reached with my hand
Hand raised high up
Up towards the skies
Skies, never stop watching!

Alphabets in poetry (five)

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“The night sky is getting a reddish hue, not the usual blues tonight!” Gun Roswell


H is for half of the moon over the roof tops
Every now and again it there pops
The circular motion never stops
Filling the night skies with bright light
Never again having the darkness to fright
The moon protecting even at half power
Letting us n the star dust shower
But even with all is might
It has to leave, before the early sunlight

The sunset and the beach

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“The cliche of the sunset? Well, it just gets me every time. I simply love it!” Gun Roswell 

The sunset and the beach

Hanging on the sandy beach late in the eve, watching as the last rays are trying to reach each and every surface. Reflections on the glass blurring, the last rays of the brightly lit sun fading as the darkness is slowly but gently taking over the light of day. But for a moment they will still stay, frozen in mid air and everywhere, painting the skies in all the colours, then ending in bright red, before the time of returning once again, to their respective beds. 

One final glance, one final chance to catch the gorgeous display before it has gone, disbursed into the fading glow leaving the night to take over. But there is no worries for the onlooker however, as a guaranteed scene of similar magnitude will return again after this night and the next day is over, a new spectacle will be there and give that same sensation the observers do yearn, a gift from Mother Nature, for all of us worshippers of her great skills coming out to play and throwing a sunset party each and every day again and again.

So thank you and see you, later!

Bright ball of light in the skies

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“Sunshine is always good, when it shines like it should” Gun Roswell 

Bright ball of light in the skies

Sunshine and bright blue skies makes one smile 

Grey skies and thunderstorms might too be fine

But the snowy vistas of winter with everything bright

Then add to that a shiny ball of sunny rays 

And no amount of gloom here will stay

And that is why winter with snow is so great

Except when it’s really not

And then only wishing for days hot

Filled with sunshine all day long

Sunset most red

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“Ah, the setting sun, what fun! The most cliched happening of them all, mostly photographed, admired and no wonder, as it is simply gorge!” Gun Roswell

Sunset most red

The sun is setting, against the ocean it is letting, itself fall into deep, deep slumber, dreaming of wonders, as it lies in the great yonder, dreaming of stars and the moon, before it is time for another round, the sun to rise again, to shine beyond them all, brightly in the early morning hours, just after the rain showers of the darkened night, and then only can it shine, like nobody would mind at all.

Hiding behind the setting sun

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“The setting sun, is engulfing the sky, painting it red, on the fly, not even trying to hide, blinding those who dare to pry“ Gun Roswell

Hiding behind the setting sun

The red colour the first clue, that of the sun setting for sure

There was no place to hide, from the sun’s light, not even at this stage of its existence before the day’s resistance became too much and as such, the sun needed to go, at least, for the night

There was really no fight, apart from the one final display of power

The skies glowing bright red instead, no hiding from any of it

And then, after the scene, the display most powerful, the sun was gone in an instance

Leaving those small creatures, trying to hide from the show, but only to be able to bow

In front of the magnificence of the celestial body in awe

And soon after night fell, the hiding places plentiful

Need for sure as without light, shining the land brightly

There was no security, for the critters small until dawn

Disappearing one and all, into their lairs familiar

Making sure never to question or doubt, the mighty sun and its dome

The eternal giver of light, warmth, security and in the end the daily show