“December is a month of great expectations” Gun Roswell
The sun setting on this dark eve
And for a while it cannot be seen
Polar nights have taken the skies
As a hostage for a longer while
But even in the darkness
There is something which can impress
The holiday season around the corner
All them lights shining from top to floor
“From the busy streets, towards the calm beach, that is the goal in life” Gun Roswell
I see the image in my very mind, it’s something unique, someplace to unwind
The colours changing now, from green to a coolest blue, some kind of hue
But then, like a sharpened photograph, everything is in my grasp.
The shining sun, rising high above, the breeze so low, the pace so slow
The turquoise waters glimmering, I wish I could swim in them
I run as fast as I can, then on to the sandy beach I land
At this point I don’t care if it is a dream or someone’s bad joke or scheme
I shed my clothing, boots and all, and into to the soft waves I let myself fall
Getting carried away to the wide open seas, where nothing and no one else do I see
Only sounds made are those of seagulls, flying high above my skull
This is bliss, this is calm, this is what I seek, this is what I want
And then, I wake up, as the car beside me honks
“Move it of lose it bozo!” I hear
Yes, I am back in the noisy street I fear
Until next time, when I dare to dream
As life never really is what it seems
“It’s night time up in the air, the passenger falling asleep, one by one, the hum of the engines the only sound present, sunset, until, the rising sun” Gun Roswell
Sunrise or sunset
High up for a reset
Destination, unknown
Flying, to a different zone
A new year
New destinations
There is no fear
Only new sensations
Staring out the window
Reflections of the past and now
Mirrored in the looking glass
Knowing only, time will pass
New year
New hopes
Prepaired on full gear
Despite the slippery slopes
“The sky is falling, the sky has gone red! Run for your lives!… oh, it’s just, the sun setting! No worries then!” Gun Roswell
Yellow, orange, red
The colours bled
When the sun sets
There are no regrets
Of the night ahead
A new day is bread
And the sun sets
Again tomorrow
“The moon boss, the moon! Well, yeah, it’s the middle of the night, right!?!” Gun Roswell
The expectance of storm and rain
Transformed into a beautiful play
The sunset beyond the treeline
Never looked so fine
The colours painted in the sky
Catering both mind and eye
A perfect ending for the day
I wish I had more time to stay
“It is once again that time of the year when the sun will fear the upon coming of winter, laying low during the day and even when setting, but it’s so red and pretty!” Gun Roswell
End of the day will come no matter the times.
It can be a little later or even earlier depending on the seasonal chime.
For the late autumn or fall, the light of the day will try to stall.
But never winning against the night the darkness soon upon.
The sun though never faltering its stance no matter the dance.
Late in the year or early in the hours of the new morn’.
The rays will remain there on the surface just one more moment time to
“Sometimes, a paradise is a place, other times, it can be a fleeting moment in time” Gun Roswell
It was just covered with frost
In the end of a very long autumn
This was what it cost
To get back from the bottom
Paradise,
It was never lost
It was, just forgotten
“The slow pace of the motorised vessel towards the setting sun.” Gun Roswell
Take that axe
Off your back
Just, sit down
And then, relax
And I’ll bet
A bluest of sunsets
By the seaside
You’ll never forget
You wil be able
To see
“From the busy streets, towards the calm beach, that is the goal in life” Gun Roswell
I see the image in my very mind, it’s something unique, someplace to unwind
The colours changing now, from green to a coolest blue, some kind of hue
But then, like a sharpened photograph, everything is in my grasp.
The shining sun, rising high above, the breeze so low, the pace so slow
The turquoise waters glimmering, I wish I could swim in them
I run as fast as I can, then on to the sandy beach I land
At this point I don’t care if it is a dream or someone’s bad joke or scheme
I shed my clothing, boots and all, and into to the soft waves I let myself fall
Getting carried away to the wide open seas, where nothing and no one else do I see
Only sounds made are those of seagulls, flying high above my skull
This is bliss, this is calm, this is what I seek, this is what I want
And then, I wake up, as the car beside me honks
“Move it of lose it bozo!” I hear
Yes, I am back in the noisy street I fear
Until next time, when I dare to dream
As life never really is what it seems
“Sailing away, to far away lands… or at least now, that the sun is setting, getting, home is enough for the weary traveller, right?” Gun Roswell
The setting sun, is the time indicator, time has past flown, and so now, setting the helm towards home, is the best option, perhaps the only option to follow.
As adventure, can always wait, for tomorrow will be another day, for sure, and the lure, of the far away lands always present, never letting the traveller at peace.
So, either a restless night, without sleep, depending of course, how deep, the thoughts of the ventures ahead are, the smart ones, will figure a way, to set sail, even when with little if no sleep.
But before you get in there too deep, remember, to eat, and have plenty of coffee, as the adventure will take time long, at least, until the next sunset is upon.
Rantings Of A Third Kind 
