Splashing Water

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“The sounds of splashing water, reminds me, of summer, days spent by the seaside, watching the waves coming to shore“ Gun Roswell

Splashing Water

Water around splashed, as the blurry projectile, into the cooling waves dashed
It wasn’t officially, the season for any kind of water games, but it was all the same
For the adventurous crusader of the elements, taking the plunge without hesitance
The others would just have to wait, the fire, the wind, even digging in the dirt
As the inviting liquid, no matter what state it was in, cold, hot, stormy or even
Tornado level tsunamis leaving, the ever venturing object of a body heaving
In anticipation of the varied feelings, when playing among those alluring components
Made by free, well, almost, by nature itself, a long time ago, so, even if exited
Just try to take it slow and enjoy, all the waves possibly caused, while diving in
There is no loose or even a win, just a moment of fun, while riding ever so high
On the tall waves of the splashing waters, frolicking around with the sea otters
And after all that needed to be done, for the fun, the adventurer will return, home

Summer’s garden gone, but not forgotten

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“The fresh smells of summer, still clearly in my mind, even if I can only, live them through, in the memories of my files” Gun Roswell

Summer’s garden gone, but not forgotten

The pictures, so totally vivid, and the colours equally lively
It would have been impossible, to even take that guess, wildly
Whether this was the real life, or just, a few simple memories

But, the garden will be, from now on sleeping for a while
Still, there just might be, something there, surprisingly, alive
Beneath all that soil, the dirty thing, protecting, that evidence

Even if it seems so completely discarded and dull like grey
There, on the ground, lying, some half dead, and left over hay
It won’t be long though, after the winter, a new time strong

The flowers, the grass, the berries, the birds and even, the bees
Will be wildly blooming and all over humming, the green and full fields
So, in a blink of an eye, the picture perfect setting, has come along

Seat and the Shade

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“There is always room for one more, on this very seat, the seat, in the total shade” Gun Roswell 

Seat and the Shade

The midday, right in the middle, of the month of May
It might even be June or July, alas, the month is not the why
But rather, the shining of the sun and the glaring of the sea
And where, in the scorching heat, is safest to flee
Is it diving, into the water or maybe hiding, under a tree?
Or take cover in the cooling air-conditioned shop you see?
But what if you need to buy something
Even a the smallest thing, but forgot to bring
Your purse or any kind of method of payment?
Then no, you cannot enter the establishment
Because the option of loitering means banishment

Then, out there, in the far corner of the eye
There is something so familiar, your eyes spy
The contours of some kind of a furniture
No!, Could it? Is it? And right there, in the shade?
No, it simply cannot be true, what I see
A bench, a solemn respite, in the shadows, under a tree
I run as humanly possible in this heat
And as I reach it, i can clearly see it
Yes, it is the one simple saviour I have search
In this hour of afternoon sweat and cursed
But now, I simply forget it everything else
As I slump down on this heavenly seat
And boy, am I beat! I think, I might get some sleep!

Autumn Garden Bliss

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“It is harvest time, in the garden, and not just for us humans” Gun Roswell

Autumn Garden Bliss

Behind, the lush grown, hidden small size gates
A tiny, really old dwelling, the on looker baits
And, for the odd traveller, just passing by
To simply dare, to step, inside
For there is nothing more alluring, than the unknown and divine

The cottage, once, in screaming bright red painted
But now, mostly, the exterior’s inviting flash, is all faded
It is as quaint as the trimmings of the windows
But still standing strong, even after all the wind blows
And into the past, the history, it invites to explore

Guarded, by the tiniest of inanimate gnomes
Sitting there, in a solemn quiet and an orderly row
They seem smiling and totally life like
And, if you dare to misstep, then you will feel their spite
For they are the guardians of the cottage’s life

The trees, now filled with apples, oranges and berries
After all, it is that time, most of us cherish
The Autumn falling slowly, onto the waiting land
With all the colours so bright, you can hardly stand
Foliage, they dwellers say, and then, offer you a hand

It is now, near harvest time, for both the bees, birds and human kind
Every single living thing gathering their reward, knowing, they have scored
When their stomachs are filled with delicious nectar and food
From apples, oranges, berries, and all, who can really and honestly choose!
So step into the world of wonder, you really have nothing to lose!

Sea, sunshine in summer

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“Sea, sun and summer, nothing more do I need” Gun Roswell

Sea, sunshine in summer

Even on the cloudiest of days
I will not for long in a dismayed state stay
As I step outside into the calming beach
I am greeted by a cooling breeze
Nothing is more invigorating than the sea
Cool blues as far as my eyes can see
Even if I choose to just hang around
Take my place on the rocky ground
Or if I am feeling daring and adventurous
I can set sail to the open waves
In my small dingy of a boat with sails
I feel great, alive and most of all
I am spending the best of a summers time, at the seashore
And soon enough, even the sun cones out
Making this day too, perfect all around

Last days of summer

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“Summer endings are such sad things“ Gun Roswell

Last days of summer

Before, it, the season, of joy, of fun, of sun, really started
Started, in a big flash of light, and then, it was, already over
Over, as the end, of the very long, bright, summer days
Days, which I wished had lasted, so, so much longer
Longer, than the cold dreary days, of the dark winter, which in, my bones I feel
Feel, so sad, so bad, so not wanting, ever again, to go back
Back, to the so called everyday, grey normal
Normal, is not, what I want, but only for, these summer’s days, to be


Be, exist, live, love, in the everlasting, long, warm, lightened days
Days, so much longer, than the cooler blue lit nights
Nights, never dark, never long, never scary and never, ever cold
Cold, like everything else, which is not, of summer
Summer, oh my dear, you are, my one and only saviour, in good and bad
Bad, is only the time, when you are gone
Gone, well, at least, until, the new year, the next year
Year, when I hope, you will finally stay, for so much more longer

Cottage in three

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“Summer fun in so many cottages, it’s getting to a point of annoying really! ” Gun Roswell

Cottage in three

Red, yellow, any other colour, or maybe even painted black
The choices for living, really do not lack
Going around and around, never once looking back
As one, after the other, is so much better, than the last
But, for only one week at the time
Spending, my vacation, nearly, on a dime
Even the weather, is ever so fine


And I surely have no complaints, of all these cottages, oh so divine
Juggling amongst these places, some near, some far
Luckily my rucksack is not weighing, so need for a car
Summer still well spent, even if it wasn’t exactly like I had dreamt
But the experience given me so much more
I can go back to the daily grind without immediately being bored
After all, adventure is part of human nature, with or without fear
And this year, I certainly got plenty for the rest of the year

Summer’s seat

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“In the tiny garden I sit, until there is snow on the ground” Gun Roswell

Summer’s seat

When the first rays of the summer’s sun appeared
I knew immediately, I could sprint outside without fear
The bright white light burning my retinas at first
But, then I picked up my old fashion shades from dirt
Left them forgotten, discarded under a pile of dust
All through the winter months, since darkness, was a must
Noted the greening and growing grass under my bare feet
The blue skies and the flowers, yeah, I am truly glad to see
Spotting the tiny seat in the corner of the garden so small
Where it had been sitting all along, under the piles of snow
I don’t care if it’s splintered and slightly dirty
As long as I can sit in it without feeling angry
Because today is the first the of the summer life starting
This great time, mostly without bad weather and plowing
So I will be sitting here, spinning all kinds of thoughts in my mind
Until the day that the sun sets for good and it is time
To turn back into the winters dark cave
And sleep, the deep sleep, before another summer saves

Summer expectations

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“There is fantasy and then, there is the harsh reality” Gun Roswell

Summer expectations

Waking up to expectations of gorgeous weather in a beautiful place ahead
But the darkness must have been an omen, as what greeted me instead 
An non-coloured greyish scene, with no natural light, anywhere, to be seen

I blinked once, twice, three times, and then pinched myself, just to be sure of what I saw, this utter vile
In front of my sad eyes now laid, instead of all the fine I had just seen, while lying on the bottom of my soft bed

Enough! I finally said

Had it all really been, a good dream, or a figment of my vivid imagination, a total fantasy, I had seen?
Such marvelous things and places, making ones heart really go to the races
All the colours of the rainbow, hardly any winds there to blow, life going, gently, smoothly and, oh so slow

Closing the curtains, feeling a tad on the side of hurting
I decided to go back to my bed, continue dreaming, until this, season of dread
Was finally over

Turning off the bedside lamp, my eyes tight shut clamped
And then, I, was back, in the place, of eternal summer, I had before of dreamt

Fluffy summers day

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“Fluffy are the clouds and so is the mood, on this, hot summers day” Gun Roswell

Fluffy summers day

Sitting. at the end, of a long pier
Looking. at the clouds, as they appear
Changing, their very shapes, as they slowly drift away

The waters surface calm and blue
Perfectly matching, the sky’s hue
Feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin

Nothing moves, nothings stirs in this moment
It seems, as if the clock, has stopped, all movement
The birds and bees at flight, frozen in mid air

As I close my eyes, I still spy
The world around me, feelings of being free
On this warm and fluffy summers day