“It’s funny how we are never happy about where we are at any given moment, always dreaming of some place else, supposedly much better than this one is“ Gun Roswell
Dreaming of a place somewhere far away
There is one constant in the universe, or at least on this very planet, that of the dwellers, namely humans, are never happy about staying in just one single place
Whether they want to travel for a while or perhaps permanently relocate, it seems to be encoded inside of the DNA to want to be a on the move and not in one locale stay
And if stuck in the same ol same ol, what do these, two legged brainy creatures do? Well, day dreaming all day long, of some other place far far away until they fall, into a deep sleep, most likely having the same dream on repeat
So, whether it is of a vacation soon to follow, or simply some far away distant fantasy, those yet to be undiscovered vistas at least for the one person, keeps them going on
“There is something to be said about the calming waves of the shores of the blue seas, it’s just that, well, they do speak to me” Gun Roswell
By the seashore, see more, stay away from bore
The bluish hues of the waters glimmering in the morning sunshine simply beckoning to get out there to have some fun. Splashing around in the calming waves, whether alone or with some close friends. The effect of this liquid form can be quite an uplifting lore, as forgetting all the daily chores, at least for this day, when sun and water come up to the sandy shores together, for a play. Preparing the perfect setup for anyone there to stay, as long as they had found the way there.
So, if you have some time, try spending the whole day right beside those bubbly waves, dipping and diving into the cool blues, which sometimes even turn to turquoise hues, slowly but surely blending into the skies as the horizon slowly fades, making the scene look like and endless palette of bright light, coloured in blue. And certainly something good for the body and soul, to perhaps make it whole or at least give it a patch to carry on until the next time.
“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
“Hiding, my face and my self, from the bright sun, under the sheltering parasol“ Gun Roswell
Under cover, under the parasol, under the sun
From the deepest recesses, of this, these days virtual travellers own mind Thinking of, all of the warm summers passed, and always with a big smile When lying, on the sandy beach, everything off, completely, out of reach Only thinking of, what and then when would be the time for the next eat Alas, not everything around and under this scorching sun is a total slack As swimming, walking, writing and reading, is part of each days list of tasks But the one thing, even enough sun block can win, is the one simple fact That too much sun, can give a dweller out and about each day an attach Of the said sun and that cannot be too much fun, so best bet to do to avoid The trauma causing the traveller to get annoyed, is to stay, under the parasol Greatly protecting any harmful rays of the on top hovering bright ball, the sol Besides, there are lots of things to do there, without the need to squint the eyes Board games, books, and maybe, even the odd iPad to track, some of the lives Left behind in the homeland, as the traveller, is on a holiday, for the duration And, if and when asked, they would simply answer without any kind of hesitation “I have earned this leave, and will stay here, until I totally need to leave!”
“The beach, of the summer long ago, still fresh, in my memory“ Gun Roswell
The memory of the beach
It was so long ago, so I have to think about it, really, really slow The memory though, still fresh in my mind, as if permanently there, intertwined It was such a fulfilling place, the one, where the summers were laid In perfect harmony with time itself, without running around, like a slave The beaches sandy and soft, the water the calmest and blue The sun always shining, but most importantly, no one was ever whining Of this place, being anything, but perfect as on that beach they played Sports, of all sorts, swimming until your arms would tire out And when it was time for a break, some sustenance and drinks, someone would shout “Come one to the table! The food is getting cold! Hurry up!” All of us, sprinted out and ran, like the fire was there under our cans Spending the days on end, on that sandy and sunny beach Until it was that time of the day, when the sun could no longer reach Only displaying a magnificent setting, as its rays in various colours kept on slaying The moonrise only a match, with the stars hitting the skies above Then at bedtime, dreaming of yet another day on that perfect seaside Yes, those where the days, where we all so had our eyes so totally wide Now, I can only reminisce, about the days gone by, but, with a soft smile
“Nothing paints the feeling of longing and sadness better, than the colour of blue, right?” Gun Roswell
Blue, by the seashores of more
Autumn descended, over the land of green The colours still vibrant, more gorgeous than ever seen But, the one constant shade, in this, all Whether winter, spring, summer of even fall Is the one, of the coolest and deepest, of blues Still, hovering, over the stormy seas, as the one true hue The solemn colour of decor, clothing or even the mind When the world around you, has not been, that kind
Alas, being blue, singing the blues, is not as bad as you may think Especially, when reflecting the calm hue, over that kitchen sink It is a reminder, of those warm and sunny lazy summer days Where the time by the seashores of the more, were spent in a daze Now, reminiscing, those nostalgic times, some bad some just fine Some of them even spent, by the waters edge, sipping, cheap wine So, if you now, decide to spend your time, in all the blues Then hey, there are always silver linings, to each and every colour’s hue!
“Travel back in time, to the wonderful island, of Lanzarote, but only in my memories and photographs” Gun Roswell
Lanzarote Island revisited
The skies, painted in the most gorgeous colour of blue Clouds, so totally white and fluffy, but luckily, far and few Sun, which seems to be always shining, ever so brightly The pool just outside, now beckoning and oh so inviting
The local, and the original dwellings painted all in white This, magnificent place, oh, definitely is our “campsite” Our home away from home, well, at least, for a week What else could one want, or to be, or even, to see?
But to this gorgeous village in the middle of nowhere to flee On an island no less, in the middle, of the very, very large sea!
“When in need of some rest, take a load of, on the nearest bench “ Gun Roswell
Three times the seat
The summer holidays, had finally arrived Shouted out, was a big hoot with some jives Packing up, all the needed trash For this, unplanned, quick getaway, in a flash
So now, headed for what ever kind of port Was ready to accept us, to start this trip of a notice short Because this thing was certainly going to happen With or without all that likely crappin’
OK, so after all kinds of back and forth ‘xplaining The road trip was finally on the part of landing The island of ones dreams dead ahead in perfect still Well, as much seen from a small cockpit window sill
Off and out and into the taxi cab with a shout Soon enough the accommodation in sight with sign shouting loud “B and B” for all sizes and kinds Just come on inside and your place find”
After the slightly drama, when doing all of the unpack It was finally time, to get up and go out and yes, slack After all, this was supposed to be. a holiday to the letter so strong With rest, relaxation, something something and all that jazz all day long
When getting outside, the warm wall hits you in the face It feels so good, after so many months of living inside the icescapades In the land way, way up north, where the only transport is a sleigh Wanting nothing more than to get out of that place
But, the reality soon hit, right smack in that pale face And the sweat pouring, nay, soaring out each and every pour started After some moments, when soaked through each and every garment It was time to get the hell out of the sun and find some shade
Glancing, glaring, staring, all around the heads spinning Trying to find that one perfect spot, where to sit down on the dot It was already starting to get really frustrating The face, neck and body, covered with sweating
But then, in the corner fo the very eye, which had so much spied Behind the vail of frustration, even if this was supposed to be the best vacation A spot in a small cafe, there, in the shades, hidden from the sun All that remained to do, was to gather some courage and toward it to run
The setup like from a picture perfect A table with two seats and a large bench set Just for us weary touristy types way over their heads Boy, am I glad this day us here finally had lead!
Seated happily for the rest of the day Deciding to spend it in this very same place Ordering food and drinks was so easy as cake Why the hell would anyone do anything else
“There is just something so fun, laying, under the bright sun, but only, if I have my parasol, where I lay down without being too dull!” Gun Roswell
Under the sun, but, under the parasol
The sun is shining, so brightly, against the blue of the sky Nothing or no other experience in life, makes me really, smile As does this meteorological phenomena do, to little ol’ moi When I have made the trek to the beach, for the day encore en foi But this is not just about throwing some French around But rather, to enjoy a day, resting, even if lying, on the ground A day at the beach, in theory at least, is a plan totally sound But if the heat gets a tad too much to resist, and groaning out loud Becomes the permanently made, teeth grinding non-vowels Then it is that time, when the parasol comes to play Quickly setting up the plastic colourful monstrosity to full display Never mind the outlook, it’s fine because I myself won’t look At the contraption, now above my very large head, slightly shook Because, I will be happy on this one day of summer no matter what Even with all them flies and other types, I away have to swat This one single day I have earned with much work and sweat So I will be damned if the heat or what ever other problem might me let Feel less of fun, or any other type of good feeling As I lay here, watching the day, pass me by, leading Towards the hopefully calm and setting sun for the evening When I will leave this place, with a smile on my face
Until next year, when I get one day off and to the beach, once again trot With my parasol naturally, so I can enjoy, the sun, fully!
Rantings Of A Third Kind 