“When in Paris, the good times cherish” Gun Roswell
A Trip to Paris
Oh Paris, Paris I want to look at thee With everything, I see I don’t ever want this place to flee For, to all the places I have the key And now, I am feeling happy and fancy free Oh Paris, Paris The everlasting city
Looking up at a burger joint sign in the ever darkening skies Then suddenly, sliding down the golden escalator, at the exact time Is this a time warp, a wormhole or an other dimension Or plain old mind trick, playing a game with my imagination?
It may be a dream on a Friday afternoon nap Or simply a total concoction inside a writer head gone mad We may never find out the real truth behind this tale But does it really matter as the story for each reader will never mean the same?
Painted in the streets Most likely for free Smart art at its best For the enjoyment of us rest The artist may be unknown Appearing quickly, then gone But leaving behind Something wonderful and divine With colours totally vivid The onlookers going livid Wanting to desperately buy But this art work is not mine Or yours or anyone else’s Just painted for everyone’s senses Enjoy, while it’s there Who knows when it might disappear A fleeting moment may be the existence Of graffiti made on the instance But dear art lover Do not worry as you’ll soon discover A new objet d’art On these streets so smart
“Sky watching yet again, another sunrise on the horizon” Gun Roswell
As the early morning darkness fades I am set and ready on my way Hoping, not to be too late To catch, at least, a glimpse, of the rising light With my own, two dark eyes And to admire that, of the magnificent sun’s rise Watching the sky I never feel like a spy Only to simply admire Of the marvels of what expires When Mother Nature Plays around like a true painter Making art work of the simplest of things Which will make each our hearts sing