Seated at the wine tasting booth on a Sunday

“The seat at the wine refinery, what a place to enjoy a Sunday, because sometimes, you are allowed a drink for few, right?” Gun Roswell 

Seated at the wine tasting booth on a Sunday

The Sunday pretty much a dull boring day, but a day of rest and perhaps a taste of something soothing, calming and cooling, the close by breweries wine, dulling the restless mind at least for a while.

Catching the closest seat, at the booth, where the wine yard keepers are having a few samples on display, in the multicoloured glasses just to please, the gathering crowds, as this one, is certainly a treat.

The queue forming to the left, but soon enough spreading to the right, but luckily, there is no fight, amongst the many wine loving ones, each waiting their turn of getting the soothing liquid inside of their thirsty mouths, while chatting with each other loudly.

And then, the wine gods and goddesses emerge, carried on a cloud, bearing gifts to the awaiting crowd, and without any fuss, soon the feast will start, everyone there taking a part, the grapes, the wine a flow, on this Sunday started so slow, but now, there is definitely a lot going on.

Lazy spot for a Sunday

“There is nothing really much to do on Sunday’s except to find the perfect spot to lay low in for the day, the best kind of stay” Gun Roswell

Lazy spot for a Sunday

The most perfect and softest spot found

And it was certainly not on the hard ground

No, it was a softly cushioned kind of a swing

Which came along with a bell and a ding

That was of course to be able to order service

For whatever kind of desires might rise up

For food or drinks of course, perhaps even 

Entertainment of sorts, such as music or shows

But even without all those things of creature comforts

The simple way of only staying, in quiet laying

Was the perfect way of spending any day

Except usually that was never quite the option

Rather only during these days called Sunday

Was it possible to indulge oneself to lay claim

Of anything personal and not requiring any strain

And so, having found this perfect of the places

There would be nothing on this Earth to remove

This carcass out of the blissful state of non-move

And so, as time passed, even if this moment lasted

Only for the day, there were no regrets whatsoever 

On display

Seat in the rainy park, simply smart!

“It rains, but it pours, and I feel like sitting on the bench in the park, not very smart?“ Gun Roswell

Seat in the rainy park, simply smart!

When the heavy rain starts, usually, it’s time to run, away and to safety, to ultimate goal is trying to remain dry, and for most dwellers when outside, that kind of set of mind is simply fine. And why would it not be, as getting all wet and soaked is not much fun at all!

But, what of this one humanoid person, who thinks the rain is the answer to all their reasons of being here on the planet, and then what do they do to prove said point? Well, run outside of course, like there is a fire up their a..e, finding the nearest seat, hopefully in a park if they are close ton one, when this whole seasonal monsoon of an act starts. And then, it’s simply to chew on the soaked up popcorn and enjoy the show of Mother Nature’s from the very beginning, listening to the tiny rain drops singing as they venture from the highs of the skies to the lows of the grounds. Nothing can compare to the spectacle of this magnitude, where all the blues skies are now turned to darkened greys and where once was solid ground, now are puddles, most likely turning to lakes. So, understandably, this is a great show, for anyone not afraid of the unknown, or even the known!

A Dreamers Dream Sunday

“When dreaming, always dream big, unless, you have small dreams” Gun Roswell

A Dreamers Dream Sunday

The coolest of blues hit me, with the blues As I sat in the seat, carefully chosen, by the coolest seas Watching the skies, expanding in my very eyes And then, what the hell do I spy? An aeroplane, in mid air, in flight Yeah, right!

It was supposed to be my special dream From this dreaded place, for once at least to flee But now, here I sit and watch, as others, obviously, have taken my spot On that flying machine, up there, for all to see And, where am I? Well, down here, on this pretended life of a scene

But as I sit here, in my own fear And the air vehicle, slowly into the skies disappear I start to deep into my own thoughts sink, maybe even think That this place, where I seem to always so long stay Maybe, it’s not so bad, even if I am feeling sad It’s an OK one, sometimes even fun So, maybe, this is the dream after all I just have to adjust and then, dream small!

A seat refurbished

“Recycle is the key word of the day, don’t waste, make good use of all of it even if you are in haste“ Gun Roswell

A seat refurbished

A seat had finally served its former purpose as a sitting surface for all those tired and weary ones, not being able to stand on their own to feet. It could have fared worse of course being thrown into a dumpster of all sorts. But luckily this formerly rickety old stool had an owner who was no fool and a handy one at that. So now, the former seating tool has a new purpose and ain’t that all so totally cool! A new life after some love and care and lots of paint, the former chair of a thing, is now serving, as a flower pot, a useful thing at that, and even good to look at so all and all a good change in life for that old chair now sitting on the porch for all passersby to see. 

The moral of the story here if you haven’t figured it out already is, to never throw good things away, rather reuse and show them some care as they once did serve you and their purpose, so always try to be fare!

Turn to the sunny side of the Seat

“The sun is shining, well, what did you expect, it’s Sunday after all“ Gun Roswell

Turn to the sunny side of the Seat

Heat radiating from the shiny ball up in the skies, putting on some long awaited smiles, onto those dwellers from the dark, who had been smart enough, to make their way, out from their homestead caves, following the light, shining so brightly. After the long, long time spent inside the cold and humid place, which seemed endless and without the grace of goodness on the side, not even one single blink of light, but now, it was that time of the year again, where all the fear of winters’ wrath, was in the past and the joy of spring and summer soon to follow, leaving none of the hollow. Their minds and bodies filled with a new sense of purpose, and the nature outside growing because of the sunlight filling the skies, would nourish the dwellers of dark for the next six months ahead. And there would be no rest, expect on the Sundays, where all of them could take a day off and simply take their seats, on the sunny side, of the flower filled hills.

Painting on the streets on a seat Sunday

The Sunday always brings out the artistic side of me or at least, the art buyer that is” Gun Roswell

Painting on the streets on a seat Sunday

The non too busy shopping streets on a Sunday afternoon is what most leisure shoppers seek. The peace and quite, simply to take the time to browse around the produce on sale, especially all of those handcrafted details. The painters there too, conjuring the caricatures of the odd passersby, most of the artwork done with a smile. And then making a sale of the same, both parties happy with the end result without blame. And one other thing seems to be common for both seller and punter, the eternal bargain hunter, is that of the afternoon sun, and when it gets too hot to be walking around, a cool and calming respite is the only thing to be sought, as it is something which easily cannot be bought. And a seat in the shade, well that is like winning a small lottery or top price to be gained and then, spending the rest of the day, on a seat without complaints, well, that is what Sunday is all about without a doubt.

Sundays filled with sun

“Sundays, yes, those the fun days” Gun Roswell

Sundays filled with sun

Smell the roses, won’t you When you walk out side Pop into a garden, filled with the Colours of nature, trees, flowers

Everything you can imagine just For the visual pleasures of us all Stroll around, see the marvels

Sit on the bench, inhale All the fragrants, your nose could ever Have imagined, feeling peaceful, watching

The butterflies, birds and bees Busy at work, gathering their sustenance, but Your task, is to relax And there is really nothing wrong with that

Seated by the seashore in the sunshine with some corn

“Take a load off on the sunny side of the winter’s storm” Gun Roswell

Seated by the seashore in the sunshine with some corn

The afternoon sun, reflected off of the freshly fallen snow, now covering the frozen waterscape. A solemn bench still remained by the seashore sat, as if waiting for someone to take a load off a spend a moment to escape, especially, on such a fine day. Alas the streets were quite empty, not really sure as to what that had prompted, as not one single passer-by was anywhere to find, even if the sunshine, should have tempted everyone out and about for a stroll or a simple fresh breath to allow. Hours passed again, the sun ready to set in, for the night ahead, but still, a few rays dared to peel through and then, one creature courageous enough, had come out and was now, seated, on the very bench, in the sunshine still at reach, snacking on his big acorn, delighted to do it in some peace and quiet as usually, finding such spot, would instantly cause a riot. But today, he got some alone time, surely rare, in the big city, open wide.

Secluded seat off street

“A private seat on a secluded street, hidden away from prying eyes, just so I myself, can spy” Gun Roswell

Secluded seat off street 

The hot and shiny afternoon sun beckons to join the fun
The eternal hustle and bustle of the streets busy with people bees
But I decided to do something completely different instead 
As i found a perfect spot for the duration and on life reflect
So, as i sit here, hidden, quietly and without any disturbance 
I start to spin takes as those passing by with their everyday lives
Unaware of being under a watchful eye of this, self proclaimed spy
Its good too, as the stories now filing my vivid little mind
Are sometimes pretty tales, but often times, really unkind
But nobody knows what is going on at the slow of the corner 
Where this one, life observer keeps on spinning the yarn
Who knows, maybe some day, there is a book out har- har!