It’s made out of snow, but has a nose and a bow, or a scarf, guess depending on the person having made the snowman up. Freezing cold outside, alas, never too cold for the bold snowman, standing there, in the yard.” Gun Roswell
Frosty the Snowman
Delivering the ultimate plan
For the holiday fan
From here to Milan
Doing the holiday can-can
Just because, he can
“Resilient is a word for those who keep on hanging on no matter what happens” Gun Roswell
They boarded the air
I told ’em, it wasn’t fair
But instead, of growing angrier
I grew, even more stronger
Even changed my colours
So now, here on this fence
I sit and out loud holler!
“So, the summer is over and hey, that is just fine alas, the warmth, the colours, nature is still pretty much alive, and so, I urge you to take a hike, a small walk, out there, in the open air!” Gun Roswell
The nature is still out there,
Guess it will always be,
At least that is the hope,
Not a fear,
No summer, doesn’t mean a bummer,
As long as winter stays away!
“It’s the very last day, officially, of Summer, the month ending, summer ending, nature, going to sleep, and soon enough, the snow will be landing, so go, get out there, take a breather amongst the colours of Summer!” Gun Roswell
Roaming around the Hood
Because the weather was really good
Clouds floating in the blue sky
Wishing if only I could fly
The sun warm on my skin
Melting the coldest of Finns
Colours burning bright
Ideas taking flight
Snap, click, snap, click
Hoping to score some great pics
So here they are
I didn’t walk too far
But still got a great bunch
In a time it takes to have lunch
“We are all ready for our close-ups, dear photographer, hurry up as soon, we shall all fall into a deep slumber for the Winter” Gun Roswell
When the nature has shed
Summer’s green
The colours of red
Is all that is seen
Leaves and berries
Even the cherries
Shining brightly
So tread lightly
When stepping into nature
“The nature soon going to sleep, the August ending, the Summer ending, enjoy it while it’s still alive and well!” Gun Roswell
The last warm days
Before the cold rains
It is time to prepare
But do not despair
Summer may be ending
The nature surely changing
Soon it will be autumn
But the colours
Will be awesome
“Just keep on watching the skies above, and even if you something odd spy, like the blue skies, is all good, is all, just fine!” Gun Roswell
The low hanging clouds of the grey skies
Was the trade mark of this seasonal pie
After all, it was, once again, the time of fall
Even if somehow, the summer, was skipped with five
Or more days, despite the occasional mild
Some might call warm or hot weather on the side
Of May, June, July and perhaps even August went wild
For half a day or so, but I digress, because this
Was supposed to be about skies
Which do not really care that much about the season
Because given even a smallest of reason
The blue skies, will try to push through all
The dark cloud coverage, because they are simply that bold
And even if the clouds hanging low and grey
Will put up, quite the menacing albeit picturesque display
The bluest of blues, are my kind of hues
Snapping, snapping, snapping my clicker away
Wishing, that maybe, this time, they will longer stay
“The road quite clear, now that the plow towards it had steered, vacuuming away all that snow” Gun Roswell
The Road Clear Ahead
The main road, leaving towards towns and even destination unknown, was filled with snow, suddenly having poured, over night
What a total fright!
But hey, it’s all alright, now that the plow has arrived
Working hard, no one single part, not even the very sides
The offensive snow, soon hauled away, even if it is just for a while there
As soon enough, a new front will arise and more snow will be on the way
But for now all ahead is perfectly clear
From very far away and even near
The road ahead, simply waiting for the travellers to get on instead of waiting
Perhaps even hesitating, whether to hit that path towards vistas familiar and unknown
And so now, it will be easy enough
As nothing really too rough awaits
No need to carry a shovel, unless, to some non-plowed road you want to travel
“Two berries, both cherries, hanging from a branch, it’s not much, but it’s a start” Gun Roswell
Two cherries
There are two of them left, just there, hanging by themselves, after all the others have gone, eaten perhaps or thrown off by gusts too strong, the rest plucked by birds, just for the off chances of fun.
But the two of there remain, looking exactly the same, as in the very beginning, remaining still there even if the high rain came, the two keep on, the colour never changing, always the brightest of red.
Nobody even thinking of picking them off anymore, simply letting the two berries to stay put there, as if they should, the reason unknown, guess it’s just because the all want to keep the myth alive, at least for a while.
“The snow has descended onto the waters surface… yeah, it’s winter, so what did you expect?!” Gun Roswell
Snow and the seaside
The sea is now filled with frosted ice and white fluffy snow, no matter which way you look or try to go, the endlessness of it all, the monochromatic feel as far as the eyes an see, like it is there for eternity, but then something happens, a meltdown of sorts and it is all totally gone, at least for a while, before a new cold front hits the town again and again and it’s all back to the wintery normal, and without being too formal of a thing it is, bringing back that familiar cold frosted feel, which in it is simply great to reel in, at least for a moment longer than what really is the need, as it is so a permanent seed, that frosty cold of a thing which has been put inside, onto each and every single dweller of the coldest of north, and so what has been usually sought, is now brought back, without any kind of slack, and then without further thinking as to the whys, we are all giving our biggest and most heartfelt thanks.
Rantings Of A Third Kind 