Sunshine in Autumn

“September and sunshine? Who would have thought!” Gun Roswell

Sunshine in Autumn

A totally odd effect
Took to the skies
After the dark clouds
Completely neglected

An odd ball of light
Shining, ever so bright
Making me want to smile
And forget about the vile

After all it is known
That when October is shown
There really is no turning back
The clock of winter’s brutal attack

Enjoying it while I can
As I here on the porch stand
My face lifted up facing
Towards the skies amazing

Coffee Time (national coffee day)

“There is always time for coffee!” Gun Roswell

Coffee Time

A cup in the morning
Before you start yawning
A cup in the middle of the day
Will keep you from dismay
A cup in the evening
Well, it may let you sleep in
(The next day if you stay up all night)

Enjoy it in company
Enjoy it alone
Enjoy it with a sandwich
Enjoy it some more

A cup of coffee
Maybe with a butterscotch toffee
You can never go totally wrong
Especially, when the coffee is strong

Drink your coffee and be merry
Drink the coffee until the cup is empty
Drink when they pour another cup
Drink, yes, it’s coffee, never stop!

Cat vs. Dog

“A cat fight or a dog day afternoon, I say put these two together, call it, a cat-dog fight afternoon, because that is what you sometimes get with these two in one place” Gun Roswell

Cat vs. Dog

The cat, sitting quite coolly, in the left side corner
Instead of boxing gloves, the sharp nails are out in order
Carefully watching the opponent on the far right
Knowing, anticipating, the beginning of a good fight

The dog, licking it’s paws, in the right side of the ring
Unaware, of the constant stare, of the opponent so daring
Taking it’s time, then, in one swift move of the chime
The dog clear’s it’s mind and is ready for the good fight

The two so different enteritis now sparring each other
Keeping an keen eye on the one, who could cause the trouble
Moving slowly around, close enough, but still no contact
The two of them, ready, for the good fight, but still, remaining untouched

Minutes pass, maybe even an hour, but the same thing still repeats
Neither of them will attach, but neither will either retreat
It goes on and on, both of them, trying to be the one so strong
But then, something happens, as if of the ring of the bell of the dong

The two of them jump up, in one synchronized move of dare
Their eyes glare, flare gone, only the sign remains that of scare
They glance around, now both of them in common ground
The will of the good fight, all but gone and a unified stance found

Staying alert, covering each others backs
The cat and dog, low on the ground duck
Nothing seen, so far all good, maybe presuming the good fight they should
But out of the blue, there is a new clue

The air now thick with anticipation
Both cat and dog have a sense of hesitation
Fight of flight, that is the question, until, a familiar sound:

“Bingo, Spot, come get your din din!”

Rushing towards the promised reward
The cat and dog, side by side, soar
Nothing but munching sounds of soften
It seems, the age old fight all forgotten

Sharing their food in complete content and utter silence
After all, what is the point of violence
When the keeper of the cat and dog so kindly
Will do their bidding, without even whining

Midnight Bench

“A place to crash on, when the night falls, what else is there to look forward for?” Gun Roswell


Room with a View

“A place belongs forever to whoever claims it hardest, remembers it most obsessively, wrenches it from itself, shapes it, renders it, loves it so radically that he remakes it in his own image.” – Joan Didion 

mokki

Room with a View

We had been driving for a while, not sure whether this road we were on, would lead us to the right place. Everything was different now. What once were wide open fields and forest, had now transformed into a mini suburbia. It was difficult to navigate by only old images serving as maps for the familiar road taken some forty years ago.

“There, take a turn here!” I pointed out to the direction looking to lead to were I wanted to go.

The car swerved and after a moment, I started recognizing familiar landmarks, still standing after all these years despite the changes. The big boulder standing proudly at the very edge of the ledge. As
kids we use to play and re-enact our favourite TV shows, pretending the rock was part of an alien planet.

Driving further and deeper into the woods, the distances between houses were getting longer and soon I was able to see recognize some of the places long since forgotten. We had finally arrived.

Stepping out of the car I noticed the neighbours’ house was still standing on the accompanying lot, still as run down as it had been all those years ago. I wondered if anyone actually lived there anymore.

Looking at the empty spot where our home had been, I could still see some of the rocks which had been part of the foundation of the house once standing proud, laying scattered After neglect and abandonment, the run down building had finally been demolished.

I walked around in the tall grass, feeling nostalgic and remembering how it used to be. As I closed my eyes I am transported back to the old house, my playhouse, the house I was born in.

It was a warm summer’s day. I could smell the freshly cut grass and see all the flowers in bloom. The field surrounding the house was filled with yellow, the colour of dandelions.

As kids, it was really fun to blow off the seeds when the flowers had bloomed and were ready to pollinate. Little did we know we were actually helping the flowers to spread. They looked like skydivers as they slowly landed on the ground.

I turned and looked at my home, the raw wooden exterior, no creature comforts, such as running water or toilets. The outhouse was a little farther up the hill, covered by tall trees and bushes. Someone probably thought it would be a good place to hide it, so the onlookers would not find out the people actually went to the toilet in those days.

As I moved closer, I saw my grandmother sitting in the swing. She loved that swing. She sat there for hours on end, watching us kids play in the yard. I waved to her and continue inside. I was thirsty and I knew there was a pitcher of cool lemonade in the kitchen. In those days a refrigerator was a luxury and we did not have one.

To keep things cool, there were sort of holes or wells dug into to the ground, filled with cool ground water. The food was then put into a bucket and lowered into the hole. Our kitchen had one in the middle of the floor and it was handy especially during hot days like this one was.

The house itself was small, two bedrooms, a living room and the kitchen. There was electricity coming into the house, for lamps and such. And of course to the piece de resistance, the television. The only one in a ten mile radius. The neighbour kids and I used to gather in the house every Sunday afternoon to watch our favourite TV show, Thunderbirds. Even grandfather sat with us kids and watched the show in awe.

As I entered the house, I walked through a small foyer: It was really a tiny space between two doors before actually entering the inside of the house. When guests arrived, there usually was a queue waiting for entry into the house. Each in turn taking off their shoes, leaving them in the foyer and then entering.

I quickly stepped out of my clogs and entered the kitchen. The opposite wall was filled with cupboards and a sink. And of course no running water nor sewers. The long kitchen table surrounded by twelve chairs dominated the room. At Christmas and holidays we used to gather around it with family and friends.

I went to the “well” and opened the hatch. Hoisting the bucket up and taking one bottle. Putting the bucket back, closing the hatch. Walking to the cupboards, I took two glasses out. Satisfied I carried my items outside to where my grandmother was sitting.

After pouring the cool lemonade in the glasses and offering one to my grandmother, I sat down in the swing beside her. Letting the gentle swing and the warm summer breeze lull me into sleep.

After for what seemed an eternity, I finally opened my eyes and I was back in the present. The grass still green, field still filled with yellow dandelions, smiling at the warm memories of childhood and my trip back in time.

Autumn Lane

By all these lovely tokens September days are here, With summer’s best of weather And autumn’s best of cheer” Helen Hunt Jackson

Autumn Lane

The view from my window
Almost like a suburban meadow
Nature growing wild and free
Only a glimpse of the road I see
The pathway to our house
Narrow and more fitting for a mouse
Black asphalt with a touch of green
Surrounded by colours more gorgeous
Than I ever seen
Mirror mirror on the wall
Which of the seasons
Is the prettiest of them all
Why Autumn of course
Such a nature’s force