Peekaboo, through the view

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“There is snow on the ground again, a lot of it!” Gun Roswell

Peekaboo, through the view

A forestry type setting
As the son slowly letting
The change of something
Quite new and alluring
White and crispy clean
Still untouched not seen
The view from behind
The trees to a divine
Setting from a fairytale
Which is not for sale
And lasting only for a while
And then it’s gone with a cry
But even if you manage somehow
To capture the image right no
You can see much more
Than any picture has in store
A moment of perfection
Fleeting by to a direction
New and most likely fine

Tall shadows of winter

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“The tall shadows of a low hanging sun in the winter time look gorgeous, but scary too”
Gun Roswell

Tall shadows of winter

First snow fell, heavily onto big piles, all over, the grey ground
Not one single spot of dirt, or other matter, was there, to be found
And as the sun started shining, on one slow afternoon leaving
Tall shadows across the snow in its wake, making shiny sparkles
Like tiny little diamonds, so gorgeous, that all those of us looking
At them, could for a fading moment enjoy the captivating spell
Of this one and bright winters day, after the long and cruel darkness
Broken if only for a tiny fraction of time, and then feeling fine
Almost divine, until it was once again, completely, and totally dark
But even after the bright sun was gone, remaining only, was
That one and hopeful spark, that one day soon, after the moon
Had gone to sleep, the sun would come back, and then maybe, stay
Forever, and then all of us dwellers could spend all of their days
Counting the newly formed, and various kind of shapely shadows
Sometimes tall, more often times short, but the hope of the light
No matter if it was shining bright, was in their own hearts, forever

First Snow, has landed

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“It was inevitable, after all, certainly, this late in the fall, as it always, snows here, in the winter” Gun Roswell

First Snow, has landed

In the hours, of the very early morning, the window view, in front, gently opening
To a perfect scenery, not really seen, not at least, since the last remnants, of wintery
Feeling had disappeared, during the early months, at the start, of the new year

The first, of the winters snow, had finally, and, during the dark night, landed
All over the previously grey and totally dull ground, its large wings spread grandly
And into, a crisp, and ever so clean looking, fluffy white blanket, it softly covered

Watching now, from the warmth and comfortable cozy inside, it looked really nice
But knowing full well, it would be, really cold and freezing, with some slippery ice
Then, returning back to bed, and sleep past the day, seemed totally sound advice

Alas, the best option still to handle, the sudden, but not unexpected change in the weather
Was quite simple and that of staying put, sitting down by the window, in a warm sweater
Then, enjoy the gorgeous scenery, as courteously provided, in technicolor by Mother Nature

A Mundane Monday kind of Weather

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“The weather is always at its worst, on Mondays, oh how I don’t like Mondays“ Gun Roswell

A Mundane Monday kind of Weather

The green of the soggy ground, soon another kind of cover found
As the soft white of the snow, today, made its early and neat bow
The Monday kind of grey, soon turned to a ride in an old school sleigh
With odd sounds filling the airs, in the form of some kind of cheers
This day of mundane, was turning out to be, a very special type of day
And maybe, just maybe, that is thanks, to the now growing banks
Of this cold and white powder of substance, all over and everywhere
But not saying this out of despair, even if it really, is not that rare
To have all that snow, all over the floors, at this time of year, so near
To the favourite of all seasons, and that being the most and only reason
Putting up, with all this huff and puff of the white, now making the outside
Picturesque, no less than it was a few moments ago, or even yesterday
When the whole world was covered, in total non fashion kind of grey
So, welcome oh dear snow, hope you will bring so much fun in tow
But remember to melt away, as soon, as the winter’s sun hits play!

Spring kind of weather, it really is!

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“In the Spring,
I have counted 136 different kinds of weather inside of 24 hours”
Mark Twain

Spring kind of weather, it really is!

The grass, looking oh so green
It is finally that time, the time of spring
All them colourful birds, do so loudly sing…

But, then,
Out of the total and unexpected blue
Bigger than life, some of them football size
(honestly!)
Totally white and really cold snowballs
From the now greyed out open skies, start to fall

WTF?

Well, you expected a change in the weather
And, this, this is certainly spring kind of weather!

Winter Madness

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“Nothing like a snowstorm in the beginning of spring to bring out the madness within” Gun Roswell

Winter Madness

When the early march morning beckoned
It was time, most of us reckoned
For nice, warm, sunny weather to begin
After all, it was supposed to be the start of spring

Alas, the weather gods above disagreed
Raising hell, with a cold streak instead
Pouring to the very ground as much as possible to be
The white powdery stuff came down on our necks

So, is there a lesson to be learned here?
Maybe, as long as we live on this blue sphere
Never expect the good old days with weather great
And always be prepared to the worst, with a bursta
After all, we live in the “good” and not so good modern days!

Freshly made tracks in the early morning

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“The ski tracks, in the freshly fallen snow, nothing lack, until the wind blows” Gun Roswell

Freshly made tracks in the early morning

Early morning, just at dawn
Something odd, into the soft white ground fall
The flakes so thin, so delicate
In beauty they will nothing lack
But a deep cut into the very core
Will make the gorgeous blanket sore
As the devices made out of plastic
Cut deep into the delicate blanket
Leaving scars a while lasting
A shadowy darkness over the softness casting
Bleeding, without healing
Until the sky breaks into tears
And healing soft flakes
The opens wounds place takes

Snowflakes on a Friday

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“…the endless repetition of an ordinary miracle.”

snowflakes-2

Snowflakes on a Friday

Snowflakes
In various shapes
A winter makes
Like icing on the cake
Covering the lakes
When it snows
There are no breaks
Just more and more
Snowflakes

snowflakes-1

Snowed in on a Friday

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“Maybe, this is the last of the snow for this year?” Gun Roswell

Snowed in on a Friday

The snow started falling
Just around when midnight was calling
It just kept on pouring
Until the ground was souring
With powdery white stuff
Nobody knowing if it was enough
But someone said, shut up
And then we watch as the snow kept on coming
Then soon enough, none of us was humming
The piles on piles of snowflakes
Even covered the small watery lake
No matter where you watched
Nothing, no nothing remained untouched
The world was covered in this, thing
Even the bird stopped to sing
Most likely going to hiding
Worried what they might not be finding
The chewy worms in the ground
Because that was no longer to be found
The only thing alive
Was the white snow which came from above

Bike and the Winter

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“Riding a bike? In snow? How so very bold!” Gun Roswell

Bike and the Winter

It may be cold and it may be slippery
The weather, none to chippery
But the bike is waiting for me outside
And despite the danger, I am looking for a ride

So, when I dare out there to venture
I will make sure my ride has no dents
The wheels, seat and steering in shape
Even the smile on my face is no fake

Riding down the slippery slope of a road made of ice
But with these wintry wheels including spikes
I am rather enjoying this cold weather crisp and nice
Getting some thumbs up and even some smiles

What else could be better on this ride
On my winter geared bike!