“The handprints of those whom dared to build the road, long ahead” Gun Roswell

Handprints on the pavement

The structure made of concrete

The dreamer builders whom did not sleep

Building their roads, long and winding

Leaving their marking, the prints of their making

Hands, as it stands

Even names, preserved forever in the construction

Never to be removed, still no distraction

When stepping on the stones

Making one’s way back home

The road ahead holding and strong

Even after long since having crossed

The bridge to the afterlife

The gift of the ancient builders still lasts

The testimony of time

But perhaps not a drill of the modern kind?

“The rain is here again, falling the way down, sometimes heavily, sometimes slow. “ Gun Roswell

Raindrops, heavily on the window

The rain is upon, heavily now as is the storm, the weather having gone, from totally hot, to still warm to freezing cold, the winds gusting all around, nothing really sticks to the ground, as it such a whirlwind of a thing, a scene of sorts, going on, and will most likely last, until the end of the season, until more solid stuff start falling down, the dreaded snow, so, until that time, simply enjoying the rain, the droplets making a great painting onto the window, still tainted by the summer flowers, but now, all getting cleaned up rather nicely.

“The orange bike is certainly smart, visible from far and near, never having to fear, people falling under the two wheels” Gun Roswell

The Orange Bike

The bike with two wheel and just a few manual gears and a customised steering wheel, no electrical circuits, nothing electric at all, just some muscle power to use as force and move forward, while peddling away, the streets long and slippery, but as long as you keep going, moving those feet, there is nothing not to be able to achieve, while riding this distinctive orange coloured bike, visible to all, even from the far away distance, certainly a statement of its own, and so, that is the ride of the day, making an impact, wherever it may stay.

“River runs slow at night, never a fright, even if a deep dive you wanna take, just outta spite” Gun Roswell

River slow, night time low

The night is upon, and nothing will get done, as it is, two in the morning, with low expectation of sun, still there might be something totally fun, to do, just for those daring few, while threading down the river bank, the place where the old boat sank, taking out a dingy, yeah, the one of no one is singing, and paddling across the short distance to the other shore, for whatever hoping to score, as the night time makes most of us dorks.

“Just watch it peek through, the light, so powerful, no shadow can hold it from bleeding through“ Gun Roswell

Shadow and the light, ever so bright

The darkness defending the land, with its cold hand, touching all in its path

But not even the most darkened shadow can last, when a burst of light, so powerful is cast

Over is the dark and dank feeling in an instant, as as soon as the power touches like a plant

Through time and space it will reach and then make its very own place to last

The light of the day, the light of life, will be able to cast away any doubt of darkness making its place forever, even if it might remain, in the shadows

“Go climb a rock, or not, because those look kinda dangerous… “ Gun Roswell

Rocky roads ahead

Rough seas, or at least, wherever the waves hit the rocks, or perhaps those are mountains, growing from the water’s surface?

Whatever they are, they seem so very large, going around them, could be a difficult task, and climbing over?

Well, guess that is something worth a try?

Whatever you decide to do — leave your craft behind, try to swim and let the diving decide or then be more on the daring side and well, climb, climb, climb?

Me?

I simply prefer to steer clear of such things, keep a good and smart distance!