Autumn Garden Bliss

“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

“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

“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

Mini in blue with a flag on top

“Ride a mini cooper, the tiny four wheel vehicle and you never go back to a Volkswagen, or, what ever kind of car” Gun Roswell

Mini in blue with a flag on top

A Union Jack flag, painted, on the very top of her head
Two white ‘go’ stripes, adorning, the hood ahead
Her headlights, big, bright and very shiny things, and yes, oh so metallic
As I continue listing all these qualities, I am getting so, so ecstatic
Darkest of blue, is the shiny coat she wears
Why don’t you, just take a peek inside, if you dare
(I know you want to, go ahead, it’s alright, she won’t bite, well, maybe, just a nibble!)
Lot’s of room, in this small, little gal is packed
Four seats, even ample storage, and a motor, in the back
She truly is, a complete package, of beauty and smart
This tiny, and little, old school mini cooper, is a totally and utterly, lovable car

Mundane on a Monday 1

“Mondays without colour, what a drag!” Gun Roswell

Mundane on a Monday

Bus stop Cafe

In the middle of drizzling rain
A coffee cup, left a small stain
On the table of a minimalistic cafe
In the middle of a heavy street traffic
An unusual place for a respite
Almost on the tracks of a tram to sit
But the colourfully painted frame
And the comfortable seats, can take the blame
Of wanting to take a break
A few moments the city’s dust to shake
Before continuing exploration
In this small town Scandinavian

Sunday frappé

“Slow Sunday’s with coffee, what could be better than that?” Gun Roswell

Sunday frappé

Cool, tasty, with a hint of sugar and ice
This, is the only two kind of spice
My coffee, for this Sunday, needs

Sitting in my favourite spot
I am not going to move, until such
Time that my cup runs empty

Enjoying my excellently made drink
As deeper into the plushy cushions I sink
Only, when the final drip is gone

Will I get up, with a huff, then a puff
Quickly making another delicious cup
Filled with coffee, milk and the other stuff

Back to my awaiting recliner
I will my day spent never minding
The other folk outside in the open wild

For Sunday is my day of rest
I will lazy around like the best
And when I fall asleep,
I will be dreaming of the next Sunday indeed!