Harvest Bees

“Gathering nectar from the flowers in the garden, quite smart” Gun Roswell

Harvest Bees

When the day begins
The garden alive, almost like spring
The birds in the trees sing
Their song, most likely, of the pending fall
As they sit and sing, in the trees tall
Sitting, in my solemn seat
Watching, the life on display, such a treat
With the smells and monotonous sounds
Everywhere, to be found

And then, comes, the annoying buzzing
As if someone started, really loud humming
Breaking, the calming routine of it all
Just as I, was thinking, the time had stalled
They are so loud, even if their bodies are quite small
They fly by, really, really fast
Like some kamikaze planes, from the past
And finally landing, onto the flowers pretty
Suckling in, all the nectar, really quickly
Clearly, the harvest time, for our winged friends
As their hive, on this precious food source, depend
Gathering it all ,with professional precision
Then bringing it back, for the queen’s decision
As to whom shall be rewarded, with the nectar of gods
That scene would indeed, be, an interesting thing, to blog

The cat and the chair

“Caturday filled with cats, can’t argue with that” Gun Roswell

The cat and the chair

A cat, just came out of its own lair
An now, he is sitting, on someone else’s chair
Owning, everything, some may say, is not fair
But try to tell the cat that, and he’ll give you a really good scare

The cat, is the master
It will make you go faster
Than you had ever thought
Just to go get him some froth

Dare, at him for long enough to stare
You’ll find out, your eyes will forgo a big dare
Just accept, the fact, that you’re his property
And no one, has to walk away, angry

Mundane on a Monday 3

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

Mundane on a Monday

Pink Window

Yesterdays reflected
From old discarded windows
An old shack
Once painted black
Now boasting, the colour pink
It’s an eye sore some say
But others, smile and
In front of it for a moment stay
It’s not useful anymore
Who knows what secrets
Within it are stored
But for now, the windows
And the doors
Remain locked of course
And maybe someday
You may find the key
Which unlocks them all

Two of red

“I love the deepness of a passionate red” Gun Roswell

Two of red

Hanging, together, no need for a tether
We are close, so close to each other
There is no need for any kind of binding
And if either of us would get lost out there
The invisible bond is still us together holding
Only need to shout and each other again, we are finding