On Artic Travels
What's it like travelling in cold,
you think you know but do you know,
the white lands set before your eyes,
sweet summer sun shines up in sky,
I'm Mr Roald trying strong winds,
Burning my face I never knew,
in winters' sane you would not know,
this part of cold the part that burns,
the part that scorns but yet spurs me,
I'm Mr Ready I bred me for this,
I'm searching strange lands,
men little but know,
lands where the rainfall is snow,
lands with grounds all thick ice,
I'm Mr Explore I dare to find,
Here are lands no government bides,
the only emperor is a tall penguin,
too bad for him how could I know,
later on in heat his palace ruins,
I'm Mr Man I rule and ruin,
Canned beef or stew, cold biscuits hard bread,
my food for months my crew with me,
the ponies are pretty but soon they must leave,
on supplies we're short and so far gone,
I'm Mr Leader I make the hard choice,
I'm at my limits even now I quiver,
rigid bodies left behind here you must shiver,
check my compass then look uncharted lands,
lost but unforgotten I've charted the path,
I'm Mr Scott now one dead-famous.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
