“My philosophy is quite simple: it’s not just black and white, but sprinkled with so many shades of grey” Gun Roswell
The Flower
Going, going, almost gone
Now from summer, it’s so long
But something else, will come along
When fall and then winter
Will sing their songs
“Black and white? The two colours shine so very bright, am I right?!” Gun Roswell
The Lighthouse
A tall tower and its smaller twin
Living, side by side,
On an island, made from winds
With the blue ocean wide
And the land around them thin
No hiding, from the high tide
But together they survive
For they are kind
And nothing them, can divide
“Capturing someone’s soul in a black and white photograph? Ominous? Or perhaps preservation for the future?” Gun Roswell
The Ruins
High up
On the mountain top
The basic instincts
Are kicking in:
Clouds filled, with life giving water
Arrived into the valley, with a fog like holler
Do not worry about survival anymore
Looks like the weather gods,
Rewarded us with a big score
“Colour just might be the thing, alas black and white is so much more” Gun Roswell
The Bird
Hovering above the world
Wings spread like a big bird
Voice screeching to be heard
Like a flying seagull high in the sky
Soaring, into the grey horizon
There is no one defined reason
Only the thrill of being
In the here and now
“Black and white is abstract, agreed for sure, but still something quite tangible?” Gun Roswell
The Fortress
Frost bitten branches and leaves
Above a small dwelling still heave
The wind cold and freezing
Breathing in the throat keeps on wheezing
“This weather, certainly takes your breath away”
Just be careful not too long to stay
Warm mittens and a thick coat
And certainly a woolen scarf for that throat
“In the past, life was black and white or at least some kind of greyish colouring scheme?” Gun Roswell
The Forest
Winter continues with all its muster
Snow pouring down, faster and faster
The forest with its trees covered in light
Powdery crystals in the colour of white
A passageway in front quite clear
Do not hesitate or fear
Take a step into the wonder and delight
And soon you have something about to write
“In the past, life was black and white, right? Just check out the movies!” Gun Roswell
The Tree
Snow covering, all of the land
Just like designed and planned
The Winter’s hand
Lays heavily on each strand
Not one inch de-clutched
Not one place untouched
Nature has made its mark
With a white noiseless bark
“Red berries, mixed with apples of the same colour, cannot go wrong!” Gun Roswell
Mix it to a salad
Or make a fruit cup
The tasty palette
Can be served
Right up
Berries of red and blue
For a while in your mouth chew
Let the flavours make their play
You will never want them go away
Berries are good
Berries are healthy
Berries in a smoothie
Berries are a wealthy
“Something about the red berries makes me just… drool and eat them all up until I cannot any more” Gun Roswell
A July gift to you
A red tasty strawberry
May be of few
But the taste better
Than you knew
Best now them cherish
Before autumn arrives
And with it all
The strawberries
Will perish
“Even the smallest flower, has the power!” Gun Roswell
A bunch of flowers (it’s summer after all!)
Sitting, quietly, even prettily
In the green grass, so waste
Looking more, like a pool so long
Continued, to infinity and beyond
The total power, of summer
Grew up, with the answer
Of what is, the meaning of it all
Nothing, but flowers of course
Soft, bright, gorgeous, smelly little things
Which will make your heart openly sing
Colours, odours, can be all yours
For a moment at least, consider a lease
All the summer long!
Rantings Of A Third Kind 