Welcome Aboard
America’s Vintage
Bus of all times in years
Through winding bends and open roads
Endless miles
Distance through the horizon
Rest Stops along the way
Journey a getaway
Acquaintance with America’s People
Friendly open hands at the door
Hound bus wheels accelerate
Cities after Cities
Towns after Towns
Boarding and Departing
Daylight skies
Nighttime sleep
A Hound Dog always knows the way
One Step Ahead
Recline and relax
Unleashed feel from perplexed
Greyhoundder
Through time and back
On Schedule at that
America’s wonder and wise
Greyhoundder front and Center being no surprise.
Riding Water Rapids
New York State Adirondack Mountains
Beauty and Charm
Lakes, Rivers and Waterfalls
Observing Water Rapids Saulteaux
The thought of challenging Fear
Conquering the Water Rapids in preserver
Courage through assurance
Faith enriching endurance
Canoe and venture
Close to nature
As I pulled the canoe from the pier
Determined to fulfill
My mind on God’s will
I had to do this
Hit or miss
The canoe drifted into smooth then rough waters
It was hitting against rocks below
I had worry within
That was my scare then
Adventurous on every sense of the word
Determination with a promise
No defeat until Victory
Achieved and Accomplished
Rode the Water Rapids
Confident and Brave
Success being a story
A behold
Rapidity
It is not where you have been,
or the color of your skin,
that determines your real worth.
God loved you before your birth!
So…be still, listen and know:
what life will to you, now show,
and wherever hence will trod,
He is with you…Go with God.
- by Darrell Simmerman © 2025
A stamp retreating to a corner
Travels round the world
Without boundary
No political
Colourless
Timeless
With wavy emotion of the lovers
With startling surprise of the children
With overwhelmed joy of the parents
And now with the humbleness of me
Who is one of his owner
The blue waves smack the shore
Outlined by the oaken door.
Stand beside the cypress tree
Throw your arms out to the sea
On a mossy cliffside you can spy
The wheeling curlew, hear it cry.
Smell the cedar in the grove
See grass wave where rover's rove.
Hear the sea gull, feel the wild
White sails on silver, be beguiled.
So far from madness of the city
Cell phone rings, no longer free.
You run inside the cottage door
Find your backpack on the floor
Dig the phone out, as it plays
A ringtone singing "yesterday"
Its Chase bank, with a suspect charge
Ten thousand, that's awful large.
Text message comes from your landlord
Rats with fleas came in a horde
Your boss says he's needs you back soon
Work has come like a monsoon.
You leave the cottage bitterly
But you can't eat the scenery:
Can't throw the cell phone in the sea.
At least you have the memory...
I remember when we took that trip to Florida
It was late summer and Labor Day weekend
It was our first anniversary celebration trip
We stayed in the honeymoon penthouse suite
Our days were full of exploring antique stores
And the fun popular tourist sites we found
Our nights were full of passion and romance
A trip full of hope and dreams for our future
We found some garage sales along the way
And some rare 1800’s antique carriage lanterns
They had beveled glass, gold and brass accents
We decided to buy the pair to display at home
Years passed and many anniversaries too
Our lanterns have weathered many storms
They are strong resilient and still work today
A great symbol of our love and commitment
They say the train appears
only when the night is deciding
whether to keep its secrets.
It rises through the clouds,
steam curling like old prophecies
that forgot their endings.
The moon watches closely,
amber and patient,
as if it has seen this journey
a thousand times
and still refuses to explain it.
No passengers ride inside.
Only choices~
the ones people almost made,
the ones they feared,
the ones they lost in the noise
of daylight.
The conductor is a quiet figure,
hooded, ageless,
guiding the engine along a track
stitched from cloud-light.
He never speaks,
but every so often
he leans out the window
and drops a single spark
toward the sleeping world below.
If it lands near you,
you wake with a thought
you didn’t have yesterday~
a direction you hadn’t considered,
a door you didn’t know
you were allowed to open.
By dawn, the train dissolves
into the pale sky,
its myth intact,
its work unfinished.
And somewhere,
someone rises from bed
with a new certainty
they swear arrived
from nowhere.
I journey through love
on the most beautiful voyage—
into the boundless blue,
into the wildest wave,
into the whitest foam.
My body, the sturdiest hull;
my soul, the tallest mast;
my thought—this
most beautiful voyage—
a wave to batter the hull,
and as a reward,
the mast touching the sky.
I love old book stores.
The smell and look of old books,
sets my heart a pumping.
At home I have my favorite stops,
checking out each shelf carefully.
When I travel,
I look up stores before I leave home.
My list can be short or long,
with a book or two or three following me home.
This summer I found an old book,
a book jumped into my shopping cart saying,
please take me home.
I have been reading on and off for weeks,
last night I got to the end.
I could not wait to see what was going to happen,
The Last Page Was missing.
begins with one step out from being one
one I am and that I'm one
not a prime, but primal
Where do all the people go,
The ones who share the road?
For certainly not everyone
Is in vacation mode.
Are they visiting a relative
Or dropping in on friends?
Maybe off to work or out to shop?
The traffic never ends.
I wish that I could stop each car
And take a little poll,
But certainly such action
Would exact a heavy toll.
For the last thing that is needed
Is to interrupt the flow,
So as far as where they’re headed,
Well, I guess I’ll never know.
dogs sit like people
cruising the streets windows down
tongues wagging in air
B&M Baked Beans
Aroma of the senses
Flavor of Maine
Friendly breezes
Follow your hungry pain
The taste that remains
The place Portland, Maine
Lighthouse sight
Guiding ships
Maneuvering without through the dips
B&M fresh
Being no contest
One’s travel getaway
Being blown away
Nothing for less
Maine to gain.
In the City of Downey, where I was born,
my mom gave me options, and I was torn.
She said, "Here are your choices. Listen kid -
we can go to Giza to see the great pyramid,
or maybe you want to see the Great Wall,
or the Sistine Chapel or the Taj Mahal -
but wait, look out the window. It's getting dark.
We just have time for Rio San Gabriel Park.
There's a lion drinking fountain where you can drink.
How about that son? What do you think?"
So, we got in the car, drove two minutes to see
The Big Yellow Lion Fountain of RSG.
I'll tell you friends, that's as good as it gets,
and to this day, I've had no regrets.
in another state
or another country
anywhere but here
i want to travel
not just pictures on the net
i want adventure
Travel Categories
Definition | What is Travel in Poetry?
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.
Related Poetry Forms
adventure, biking, cruise, cruising, driving, excursion, expedition, flying, globe trotting, roam, sailing, seafaring, sightsee, sightseeing, tour, touring, traveling, trek, trekking, trip, vacation, voyage, voyaging, wander, wandering, wanderlust,