Amazing Nature Photos

Free Verse Mountains Poems | Free Verse Poems About Mountains

These Free Verse Mountains poems are examples of Free Verse poems about Mountains. These are the best examples of Free Verse Mountains poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Free verse | |

I Have Fallen

I clasp your hand the moment I realise I will fall alone
You grit your teeth in anger holding me as I dangle there
Your jawline is rock hard, the veins on your head popping out,
You are breathing in and out in desperate fear of losing me
But your lightening, determined eyes shoot through me and say,
"Damn it all!
I love you
I will never let you go"

The mountain's edge falls around me and below us
But I will not look down
Gravity is pissed
With all of my strength I hurl my shoulder upwards so that my other hand clasps your arm
You pull me up to safety and draw me into your fiery embrace

Nothing will take us but each other...
I know this and sob in your arms
I have never fallen so in love with you
In that moment when death was so close
From here, we will rise
Kiss me relentlessly through all destruction,
You have taught me that
Every mountain will fall before us

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

Mountains of my country

Just drop once, when you happen to go by.

A tale they may count, mountains of my country;
Of paradise invaded and forests destroyed,
Of vessels adrift and sailors athirst,
Of savage hunting and extinction of the Dodo.

Witness to history stand mountains of my country;
Bloodshed, war times, hunger and poverty;
Settlers, slaves, coolies or expatriates,
They know all, who defiled in time.

Inert and helpless lay mountains of my country. 
Waves of changes struck their homeland.
Forest cried but sweat fell with hope in heart
For making habitation in a newfound land.

Store of knowledge are mountains of my country.
They may tell you of slavery abolished,
Of unification of heart and mind and
The fight for freedom for a respectful life.

Beware, omniscient are mountains of my country
They may tell you of clean or dirty business.
Of unity in diversity or the fumes of hatred
Which burn dark hearts in the sanctity of homes.

Sages are to me, the mountains of my country.
From childhood to youth to parenthood;
Refuge they gave my helpless heart,
Blessed me when crossing overseas,
And were always here to welcome me back.

I love and respect the mountains of my country!

11/07/16
Contest: Mountains
Winner: 1st place.

Copyright © Sunita U Palawon Daiboo | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

At the Mountains of Madness

My ordinary life -
like the plain stretching across the region of my birth,
has been for the most part
 rather smooth.
Though sometimes on my path, I’d encounter hills,
    they were few and were not difficult 
                  to get over.
One day on my travels when I was still young
   I came across a man who, like a majestic mountain,
  would take my breath away.
He captured my attention completely,
       distracting me from all the normal things
                      my plain life had entailed.
When he smiled, it was as if
         the sun were peeking over him 
                                            in golden splendor.
Madly in love with him I fell,
   and every day I worshiped at the mountain.

This was a short phase in my life -
           a time of pure enchantment but also woe.
I behaved as if I were a stream, a babbling school girl
        murmuring with joy       for a while
                                                            as I meandered
      the mountain’s pleasant aspects,
but one day my meandering came to a halt.
     Coming to a cliff’s edge, I became a waterfall
            frothy with madness as 
                      I plunged
               to the rocks below.
Picking myself up, I had to turn my back
                  to the glorious mountain.
  A final look at him, and I saw the red sun sinking
                       into June’s cool night.
Finding my way back to the plain, I trudged.
At the mountains of madness, I’d known something -
                    something I had foolishly mistaken for love.
Other mountains wait there, for me, for you, 
               for almost anyone who desires to find one.
But since my later summer years and in my fall,
I’ve kept walking on the plain,
                  for it is truly, after all,
                                          my heart  land. 


Written May 5/16/2016 for the Contest of Timothy Hicks

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

World above the clouds

Far away from this bonded crowd,
Far away from these layers of 
shroud,
Oh wings of the air glide me away,
To the world, world above the 
clouds.

To the giant mountains of mist,
Where sparkling houses of rain 
will 
be built,
World beneath where would be 
moving,
And sun rays where will be cold 
and soothing.

Where I won’t be bound by laws,
And I could speak freely about 
the 
things I love aloud,
Yeah to the world with cloud 
above the clouds,
Where everything just everything 
will be allowed.

Sliding on morning dews that stays 
till night,
Diving in the night’s sky that looks 
like morning light,
With no paths to follow,
I’ll glide free and fast,
Yawing, pitching, bouncing, 
shouting,
Like the endless penumbra it’s 
unknown where I’ll last
Yeah endless it is,
And it’s unknown where I’ll last



For Above the CloudsContest
I think I am late :-( posting this 
anyways

Copyright © Shiraz Iqbal | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Pinnacle

Inviting and magnetic the towering awesome sight
A perspective of domineering rock and icy peaks
It challenges, dares and beckons with unfolding beauty
Stretching upwards into shades of blue and puffy clouds. 
Along the winding sloping trail I make my way, the easy
Lower tract encased in green, till rough terrain appears
Then stimulation is released when steep ascent arrives.
I climb and breathe the pure fresh air, intense intoxication
It is so peaceful all around, a place for meditation.
The time goes by. I look for holds and make full use of spikes 
Intent on concentration. The wind comes by and contributes
To the hazards of melting ice and hidden crevasses
The weary limbs in need of rest; a keen lookout for falling rocks
An avalanche of crumbling doubts that slows the pace... 
Subdued exhilaration when the going gets too hard.
At last the top is right above. An added burst of strength
Dispels the peril of defeat. One final forward thrust 
Victory is mine. The summit reached I gaze in awe
Surveying with pride my sprawling kingdom down below.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Contest: Pinnacle
Sponsor: Anthony Slausen

Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Nature Portraits - Mountain, Sequoia, Sunset, Thunderstorm, Waterfall

The grandeur of a majestic mountain standing proud against the horizon with its snow-capped peak enveloped in fleecy white clouds against a clear azure blue sky The glorious majesty of a stately sequoia towering above the surrounding vegetation being the largest living thing on earth its massive trunk over thirty feet wide with its gnarled rugged beauty The wondrous artistry of the setting sun edging the darkened clouds with silver linings and painting the evening sky in brilliant colours of the rainbow mirrored on the ocean's surface below The awesome power of a thunderstorm at night with jagged bolts of lightning that split the darkness and light up the surroundings with blinding dazzling intensity The thunderous roar of a mighty waterfall cascading down in huge torrents of liquid fury smashing into the water below creating mists of water droplets that transform the sunlight into a rainbow

Copyright © john beharry | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Deeply Moving Thought

A thousand echoes
whispering through the deep seashell 
As the common bond between us 
brushing sands 
is lovingly holding 

Sweet gentle tenderness 
On desert dry lips 
winds of change kiss 
Looking towards the mountains 
snow covering her face 
White clouds cap the head 

Just a plain country boy 
Drifting away with shadows of a past life's pain 
Holding dreams 
finding your love completes the circle of a promise 

Believing something greater exists 
As the birds sing over amazing grace 
Searching the high plain 
Blue holds heaven's vision 
As a cold wind alone cuts clean to the marrow

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

Beautiful Sunrise - The Whitney Style

~Beautiful Sunrise~ ( A Whitney Duet) Sunrise shines Appears again Spreads around Cover mountains Beach, above Clouds softly pass A band of geese fly high The air's cool And the sun's warm Delightful Wonderful spring Warms my heart Songbirds sings His love shines upon my face. Dorian Petersen Potter aka ladydp2000 copyright@2012
November.06.2015

Copyright © Dorian Petersen Potter | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

THAW AT CROWSNEST PASS

THAW     AT    CROWSNEST     PASS  

Huge mountains massed and  cliffs  sheer.  It’s  March
And endless  blue  sky  cold is held back by the Chinook arch,
Snowy prairies rolling into their  thousand-mile realm  -  
The landscape  is gigantic, majestic, orchestrated to overwhelm.

But I stand and watch the lake-ice thaw,
Surprised by the tiny delicate music  -
Descant  ice -  jingling,  jangling,  tinkling
In delicate accompaniment  to the giant symphony.                                       
Ice chunks tangled in slow waves with the wind
Tiny  tintinnabulation before total ablation.
There is silence  and  harmony  around the sound,
The small melody of the ice breaking  into spring’s  chorus.




Note:   Crowsnest Pass is the southernmost way through the Rocky Mountains in Canada

Copyright © Sidney Beck | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse | |

Newly Conceived Sunshine

   As the sun awakens the forest,
   I ascend the faded trail.
   A doe and her fawn spring,
   startled by the stranger,
   traipsing through their paradise.
   These overlooked alpine slopes
   soak in tranquility, 
   and newly conceived sunshine.
   Enchanted and purified I drink
   from untouched springs of refreshment.

   Give the valleys to the cities.
   Grant the plains to the farmers.
   Leave the mountains to her unsettled visitors.

   Where civilization grows,
   ugliness breeds in desperate streets.
   Pollution collects beside her gutters.
   Man turns on himself in greed.
   In the places people gather,
   desecration and hatred are common,
   and he is cut off from himself.
   His cities are bastions of confusion,
   concrete coffins awaiting the fill.
   Save me from our urban abominations. 
   
  

Copyright © Wayne Hill | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Northwest

Joined mountains and blankets of forests
Where the sun dances just above the breeze
Deep inside the past and positions of clouds
Following branches and roots to the inside of the earth
Meadows and crevices, climbing alpine heights
Freedom in the wildflowers and fields
Memories tangled up down long dusty roads

Copyright © Jeffrey Bovee | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

i belong to mountains

i belong to mountains 
.............not to town
 i love the fountains
..........not the crown


i lift  up the curtain
...never let it down
and bear the burden
........of other's own


human race decaying
....with bluff and fake
......not a true feeling
from nature they take

each one pretends
......to be the best
with other dependence
..mediocrities infest


go get the words
...involve a space
ask the leading herds
they leanrt the base


more nature insight
reopens your eyes
..... bathed in light
makes of you, a wise


harmony is gained
if nature is host
you're entertained
at poetry's post



i belong to nature
.........not to men
i love the pasture
........not the den.







































Copyright © Lonely Shepherd | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

The Mountains

In the musty mountains crevices
covered with overgrown foliage.
Trees hang on the edges
grasping the sheer rock
of these aging towers
 that reach for the sky.
The clear pristine waterfalls
flow endlessly, cascading downwards
Into the cool blue pools below.
The water creates a rainbow
within it's downward spiral.
Sparkling water sprays
 sprinkling
all that lies in it's path.
As it flows the downhill slopes,
it veers and runs to the canopy
of forest  below.
The water along with it's cleansing rain
are nature's refreshment.
 

Copyright © Phyllis Babcock | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse | |

Mountains

The base camp was my youth
I stood alone, ill-equipped, looking up.
The challenge before me, gullies filled with tangled unknowns
and sharp lessons.
My guides had abandoned me, left, tight lipped
no map, no promise
little hope
and so I started my ascent,
faltering, stumbling, tightly gripping
any friendships I could find,
skinning my knees on setbacks as ages passed
until I found myself peering over the summit,
elated.
But in the distance
oh God.................
another mountain
and at its base
another me

For contest 'Mountains', sponsor Julia Ward

Copyright © Viv Wigley | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

Monolith

There are things we speak of, while we stroll
along the ridge, in summer sun
The mundane things, a chore, a task
ignoring what is stone and ash
or how it came to be,... to grasp
this place, we've named "Serenity"

The magnitude that lived within
had once emerged, a debutante 
It pushed its way up through the core
with first, a thrust,  a trembling 
to break the crust with shooting stars
to forge the rock where we now stand

The frozen years are buried here
And frost still sleeps in hallowed graves
of valleys deep, and jagged peaks 
Blue ribbons, sprout from melting snow
and purple shadows shelter growth
of trees and shrub , while sundown throws
a flame to warm the granite's dome 
to shine a light on history

Will we ponder, eyes in awe
while strolling,  deep into the past
of wilderness and ancient lore
into the vast of questions asked
and of everything that slept before?




__________________________________________________
Contest: Mountains: Judged 7/18/16

Written: 7/15/16
Resubmitted For Contest:  I Got Zero, Nothing, Nada- 2
Sponsored by Broken Wings

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

Alpinist

I can feel the frigid air bite my lungs
as my shallow breaths try in vain to
soothe and stop the burning pain.
Each struggling footfall could be my last,
yet the mountain taunts me to keep onward.
The snow has consumed my crampon booted feet 
with numbness as trembling loins beg my brain for rest.
Heartbeats match the pounding in my head.
I just can’t stop now when so near the summit.
Blinding snow begins to fall as I leave my two
closest friends behind on the promontory.
They plead with me to turn back with them.
All sensibilities have vanished into the whiteness.
“As I feel the snow fly, I will conquer or die”.
Let these words be my epitaph I call to them,
should the mountain claim my sorry soul.

August 10, 2014
For Charlotte Puddifoot's
Dark Poetry Contest

Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

WATERFALLS, RIVERS AND DROUGHT

WATERFALLS, RIVERS AND DROUGHT

The frenzied forces of cold, icy streams
detonate explosively on the rocks below.
Their rapid currents wreak havoc 
on logjams caught in crevasses beneath
the mist and rainbowed spray.

We blink in awe to see this
spectacular remonstration 
of pretentious power abruptly
become whirling vortexes
of descending splash downs.

But then, almost as quickly, this despoiler settles
and begins to accumulate in multitudes
of rippling bubbles and froth 
immediately bleeding onto the embankment
promptly losing much of its potential goodness 
swooshed as sucking sounds
into the wild soils of the firmament.

What survives roams free and for awhile 
flows in any direction, with no beginning, no end 
as the river turns into riverlets
Eddying on without any selected steering. 

The rains that used to drip down from the mountain top 
cry to see the diversions of the most glorious river 
dissipate and dry up knowing that the drought 
which has appeared can not adequately supply 
sustenance to a parched soil. 

For that sunbaked soil to be reclaimed
the river must continue to extend its reach
and water the seeds of new growth. 
and use its silt to fertilize the new life
that waits anticipating its turn 
in creation's timetable.

CAK 6-04-2012 Revised 6-18-2013

Copyright © Allan Koven | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

REACHING THE PEAK





Here i am again hiking near a mountaintop as the aroma of hibiscus reminds me of my charmed youth, of a serenity the winds cannot contain. As I reach the peak, my breath spills of gratitude, gently affirmed. It didn't matter if the trees are older now perhaps, rustling my grandfather and Dad’s sleeves--- or if the mossy ferns gather like wrinkled toes on a late afternoon. I was bathed with soft of light beyond the ridges inhaling the serene madness of a nature-child as if the moment stretched into a dance of family bonfire. I flow… and now, my sweet memory retains a journey of girlhood days: on Mt.Cordillera, the fullness of my spring lips, my summer cheeks embrace a rapture I cannot touch or cuddle in my arms. While gazing at how new stars emit their beauty; all I know is on this angelic evening’s bliss… I become a child of eight again. Anthony Slausen's Pinnacle Contest

Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

To be a part of landscape

 You can travel the four thousand miles of the Nile
to its source and never find it.
You can climb the five highest peaks of the Himalayas
and never recognize it.
You can gaze through the largest telescope
and never see it.

 To be a part of landscape

From a distance landscape has a
recognizable outline. 
A skin mite, grazing fleshy meadows 
grotesque microscopic cow,
has no concept of the human form it feeds from.

Just as a mountain in close proximity
is no longer symbolic of its form,
romance and the imagination of it
is reduced to a frozen, physical obstruction
that is a challenge to survival.

The skin mite tumbles, a huge force
has torn it's clawlike hooves from
living apertures, it falls
with flakes of dead turf into a 
depthless void, unoticed 
by the scratcher,

and the mountain climber sees the
blinding wall of snow that
flashes by him as he falls,

unoticed by the mountain.

 Suzanne Delaney
 For Giorgio's Impress Me 111 Contest
Philosophy.

Copyright © Suzanne Delaney | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Spring Showers

Living on a mountain top in Vermont "Spring Showers" are very dangerous
With several feet of snow still covering the rocky terrain above the tree line
a recue unit is always prepared for the fools that climb the cliffs; unprepared
They pay no heed to the weather report: Spring Showers today and tomorrow
on top of a mountain the rain falls and creates tiny rivers under the snowdrifts
A slow rain tears the bottom layer of snow away with a sheet of ice at its base
The potential now for an Avalanche just rose 80%.Are there fools climbing today?
every fifteen minutes, the rescue squad check their gear. The thermo body raps,
Snowshoes, Snow spikes, heat sensored depth poles,helmets with red, yellow,
and green push on lights, two way radios;checked batteries,Coffee and Whiskey
When one lives up here long enough; You can hear the snowdrifts : drifting
It has been raining for almost 48 hours,as raindrops keep falling my fears rise
Down in the Valleys, they cherish the April Showers,looking forward to May Flowers
I have to go now and call on my ham operator radio for assistance.The alarm is
ringing, the Snow is rumbling down the side of the Mountain.You asked to tell why
we do or do not like Spring Showers. I will tell YOU when and if I Return.

April 15, 2013 for the Contest : "Spring Showers" Sponsored by "Russell Sivey"

Copyright © HGarvey Daniel Esquire | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Those Who Climb Mountains

Those who climb mountains
	live forever
	unless they fall.
They only drink icicle drip
	and chew thorns.
Their soles are like thin mattresses
	that are well used.

They breathe tinted air,
	unfiltered.
Over and over again
	the hill is calling.
No obstacle is too long.
They are blind
	except by instinct.

A raptor circles, catching a thermal.
The climber would mount one
	and ride higher
	if he could.
A rock falls from its place
	and like a seesaw 
	lifts the hikers.

Always there is imagination.
Always there is a goal.
Sky is no limitation.
Her imagination is married
	to her distant goal.
Rules are broken here:
	no time for fooling.

They are reaching,
	reaching,
Like shoppers wanting stacked goods
	on a high shelf.
The eagle flies in the day;
	the climbers never stop.

Mountaineers are like people,
	colorful as the Swiss.
Their cheeks glow like tomatoes.
Their toenails are steep.
Finally the launch is ready
	and all who climb
	drift down again.

Copyright © Bill Yates | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Purple Majesty

There's a place to go that feels like a kingdom-
sounds like the magic of a newborn day.
Those shreds of illusion I wrap myself up in
can never dissolve the rapture I'm seeing.
Gazing intently at miles of enchantment
the roar of the mountain takes over my senses.
Layered in purple with streaks of black-silver
singing out clearly across the horizon,
this is the stuff that most dreams are made of.
Amethyst notes that play on in your soul.


for contest  "The Sound Of Color"

Copyright © Deb Wilson | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Sanctioned Screaming

close my eyes
think of myself 
being there

to where 
screams 
are free to roam,
then bounce back,
immune to tortured souls

allowed to spread 
in waves

for some reason,
Ararat comes to mind
right now
but to be honest,
Arayat would suffice

surrender...
surrender,
surrender

all these rocks

Can I
disturb you?

Even just this once...

let me
let out 
my

sanctioned screaming,
and release it to these mountains.







8420161147p851206a

Copyright © kabuteng P.iNk k. | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse | |

Mountains

Would I could recall and savor
the striking moment
I came to know of mountains.
Not lowland’s timid rolling hills,
adorned with scant veneer
of weeds, cement and green-grass lawns,
but lofty pinnacles that scratch the sky
with unyielding granite,
against whose might
the setting sun itself does daily yield—
Its bluster damned in mute dismay.
Yet there faintly linger,
among the tangled ganglia
of my mind, images and feelings…
of summits gained, and all the world below,
that I might behold
unforgettable things,
which mountains
have no need to remember.

Copyright © Mark Peterson | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

SOMEWHERE ON TOP

SOMEWHERE ON TOP Breathing free, I behold-- sash-like fluffy blue clouds hugging mountain-waists. Nearby, terrace of trees greets and falls that warble deep. ___________________ ©O.E. Guillermo 05:20 PM, January 10, 2015 30 syllables Sponsor nette onclaud Contest Name SOMEWHERE

Copyright © Olive Eloisa Fraser | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

The Adirondacks

My heart is in the Adirondacks
And day by day i drink the courage
captured in these mountain heights. 
The trail winds across the slope where bramble
lies like Tangled Truth--Blending Berries and Briars
--Bold challenges for hungry wanderers. 
The great white pine leans low in mountain wind--
but lifts its top again--the living hiding place
of antelope and bear--and little things
the birds and scurriers finding safety
in the needled limbs.
The contradictions here abound,
The breathless height amid hollow crevices,
The stillness--absence of humanity--amid
a cacophony of Nature's jumbled cries;
the barren rock 'tween rooted evergreens;
the toxic elder hiding almond scented mushrooms;
the dying elm that shades the sprouting oak;
The tumultuous roar of naked storms
Belied in the quiet tumble of mountain streams.
All these things--these contradictions
do but mirror the tortured passion
in my breast. Nor in the madding cities
or steepled churches hiding frightened people--
nor yet, in tenuous arms of would be lovers--
do i find peace. But only here--
where trembling deer dip cautiously 
into the water's edge; squirrels scold
in unquiet trees, and wild turkeys
strut unfrightened across the wind-bare
rocks. Here--on a mossy bank--
where the current curves in gurgling smiles
around the jutting stones; here
 in the flickering welcome of mountain shadows 
 the human  spirit  finds release.

Copyright © Karen Ruff | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Parataxis

Parataxis

I no longer keep a diary,
Repetitions  giving quintessence 
 to insights gained, from symbols in dreams, 
the fault in our stars, living and contriving, 
each plight by force of circumstance 
brings countermeasures,
provident planning, the difference it makes 
to declutter, the truth about multi-tasking, 

worldly themes continue, the mad pulse 
of someone's net loyalty, stopped.

The blue period between silent, pre-dawn light,
river descriptions,  your problem as a mountain,
how best to comprehend time, hold to silence 
an opulence of patience,  
this flower, this beauty, another nascence.

knowing all along, your niche is here, where you are.


 

Alliteration, 
Allusion, 
Asyndeton, 
Cadence.
Ceasura. 
Word Pairing, 

For Cyndi's Free Verse Challenge 
Written January 2016

Copyright © Suzanne Delaney | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Improvements

The wilderness has been improved of late,
Or so they say.
The maple trees where sticky syrup oozed
Between the cracks of scarred and broken bark,
The wild apple trees whose crooked branches
Cradled clumps of crudely woven twigs,
Have been replaced by houses, row on row
Of painted boxes gleaming in the naked sun.

The narrow trail, a divine doodle
Traced across the earth and kept in place
By centuries of coyote and bear
And deer that bounded zigzag up the slope
Lies tame and straight beneath the asphalt sweep
That cuts a leveled swath across the peak.
The blackberry briars that pressed against the path
And tore the skin from little hands that wiped 
the purple stain on Sunday clothes,
Are cut away, and soft green grass grows in their place.

“Superior development, and more to come,”
The realtor explains,
Not knowing that I was here before.
I scan the hills for one certain house,
An Improvement on a three-room shack
where squirrels chattered in the rafters
And wasps built nests against the eaves,
And berry bushes dirtied up the window panes.

The modern house is pink with snowy trim;
A cement sidewalk leads from drive to door,
And tulips nod obediently by the steps.
Beyond the manicured lawn,
The last undeveloped forest hugs the hill,
And stubborn briars spill onto the planted grass.
“I’ll buy the house,” I tell the man.
He sees me looking at the woods and smiles
Apologetically. “For a slightly higher fee,”
he says, “that bit of forest can be cleared.”
“I’ll take it as it is,” I tell him.
“The blackberries might still grown in there.”

Copyright © Karen Ruff | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

What Lies Behind The Mountain

What lies behind the mountain?
 A far and distant land?
 Are there valleys and flowers,
 Or hot and burning sands?

What lies behind the mountain?
 A place I’ve never known?
 Is it desolate, and barren,
 Or do you reap where you’ve sown?

What lies behind the mountain?
 Somewhere to rest my head?
 Do the weary cease their labor,
 Or do they toil in fear and dread?

What lies behind the mountain?
 The sun’s warming glow?
 Should I stop or keep on going?
 Many things I do not know.

But I know what is behind me,
 And where those paths have led.
 Of all the odds around me
 Greater things must lie ahead.

Copyright © Crystal Mosier | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Greenbrier River Dreams

The clouds drape low, 
shrugging blue mountain shoulders,
melding with ghostly river mist
ascending in specterous vapor trails
salted with primordial tears.

Between stately mottled sycamores 
and aged medicinal white oaks,
slippered phantom figures glide,
clad in hides of deer and mountain lion.
Down to the silvered stream--
a mirror for chalky spirits and bright stars--
they slip to drink of pristine springs.
The powerful spell impacts within, without,
invading every animated sense.

A dream, an apparition? 
I wonder at the dawn of bright sun rising,
green moss clad boulders warmed, fog dissipated. 
I discern the curious sensation
of withdrawing from an ancient trance.

The happy river dances down the valley,
bordered in mountain laurel ruffles, pink;
the fragrance of breakfast bacon wafts,
a tantalizing, hunger inducing wave,
and campers' laughter echoes off a dream.

August 19, 2014

Copyright © Faye Gibson | Year Posted 2014