Spring kind of weather, it really is!

“In the Spring,
I have counted 136 different kinds of weather inside of 24 hours”
Mark Twain

Spring kind of weather, it really is!

The grass, looking oh so green
It is finally that time, the time of spring
All them colourful birds, do so loudly sing…

But, then,
Out of the total and unexpected blue
Bigger than life, some of them football size
Totally white and really cold snowballs
From the now greyed out open skies, start to fall


Well, you expected a change in the weather
And, this, this is certainly spring kind of weather!

Umbrella Weather

“When it rains, stay under the umbrella, when it shines, get yourself a parasol” Gun Roswell

Umbrella Weather

When the rain comes down a pouring
Despite to the weather gods imploring
For some sunshine or at least a break
In the monsoon type of a state
The morning had started already
And no ending was seen ahead
The only option without being soaked
To bring a hefty and large umbrella on board

But then the clouds started breaking
Yeah, there is nothing like nature faking
The blue of the skies soon peeking
And the clouds of greys aside fleeting
A smile emerging on several of a face
Yeah, just because it puts you in that kind of state
Then, soon enough the umbrella will be changed
To a frilly and colourful parasol, out of this place!

Mundane Monday creeping in

“It’s always darkest, on a Monday” Gun Roswell

Mundane Monday creeping in

Looking out the window
Cannot find a rainbow
Closing all the curtains
Feelings of uncertain
The weather I cannot bend
But at least I can pretend
Turning on all
The colourful lights
In my mind
It is white and bright
At least before it’s time
To make my way outside
And face, the Mundane Monday

Rain with tiny singing Droplets

“It is raining, tiny pieces of glassy mirrors, reflecting life” Gun Roswell

Rain with tiny singing Droplets

Forming, a gigantic watery puddle
As together, these tiny pieces try to huddle
Glassy droplets, sent, from the heavens above
When the rain gods decided, them upon us to shove
The mirror like and imperfect things
Reflecting life, as on the surface now, they sing
But soon, they will be devoured, into the big ocean
All of them rolling together, in one motion
Until finally, being completely sucked, into the scorched land
Thus disappearing, for good, as if it was, the whole plan

January Fields

“The sunset of January, over the blooming fields; still thinking, it must be June” Gun Roswell

January Fields

When the sun emerged
After a long period of darkness
The nature was on its smartest
Thinking, since there was no snow
To let all them pretty flowers just grow
Confused they were
When they popped from their sphere
Finding warmth and light
Without any kind of fight
Against the cold and white cover
Which usually over them hovered
In this supposed month of Winter
When everything froze, even the splinters
But this time
The weather was just fine
And the setting sun in the sky
Provided them with enough of light
To keep growing stronger
As the days too kept getting longer
Maybe, Summer would be here soon
After all

End of the holiday season

“The holidays have ended and the weather changed too, what are the odds!” Gun Roswell

End of the holiday season

The ever consuming darkness on the outside
Needs to be shedding, with some much needed light
All the small decorative candles flickering bright
On the window shill, I once painted white

As I watch the weather in constant turmoil
I venture back to the days with seasonal joy
The ground always covered with so much snow
When going outside was fun with only a toboggan in tow

Alas those days may have passed
And the changing seasons are of the past
But somehow the silent smog outside the window
It is still comforting enough, even with a little wind blow

Not this again!!!

“Same ol’ stuff pouring down from the skies, clear, white, no difference, it’s all the same” Gun Roswall

Not this again!!!

Early in the morning, waking up, with a bad feeling
Just like the proverbial Yoda, as I am having those premonitions
Of bad things happening and without hesitation
I jump out of the bed, and instead
Of heading to get some warm coffee, I open the curtains, then scoffing
Yes, indeed, a bad feeling, as I’ve seen
The white covering all of the land, not even a wave of my hand
Can make it disappear, as just like Harry Potter, I try to appear
But like all my fellow souls, I am doomed, of this weather gloomy
And not even a shooting star, so, so very far
Can make my wish, of a warm summer breeze
Happen, in the here, and now, I may be just having, the ultimate cow
Winter, has finally, arrived
And you do not see me, doing any kind of dance involving a jive