Best Hike Up Poems
My shoes lie prone like dogs waiting for a new adventure
Will it be a soft seashore shuffle?
A jaunt through the mall, all dusty with grime
A plunge to tippy-toe into mud and puddles
A climb up a tree or hike up mountain slopes
A skip through playgrounds with the kids
A ride up an escalator, what a relief!
All polished and shined, a first date in mind
A twirl around dance floor, avoiding soft toes
Laced up tightly and properly for business date, late
Or pounding the pavement for shopping walk jaunt
A stroll through the park on soft green grass, fresh mown.
Finally to relax off-feet, in lounge room, at last we're home,
Before shoes shed, get bedded in closet with friends,
Who share tales and tongue wags with the shodden down-trodden.
Categories:
hike up, clothes,
Form:
Free verse
I start my afternoon hike up a mountain trail.
October’s sunlight, the vestige of Indian Summer,
dapples my exposed skin with welcomed warmth.
Sun’s rays are gilded tendrils cutting through pines
whose needles’ sweet scent
I breathe deeply in.
I can almost taste the breeze as it rushes past,
waltzing through the many trees.
The sky, immersed in azure, is heavenly!
I imagine its clouds having been swirled by the wind
with which I wish I too were dancing.
Bright foliage surrounds me.
I am bedazzled by them as they ostensibly flaunt
hues of scarlet, rich amber honey, russet, and tangerine -
an ocean of windswept trees!
My destination is a pristine lake where new trees
shimmer - mirrored in its crystal blue.
One oak is so tall it seems like a steeple reaching upward.
Its limbs have formed an arbor which beautifies
the view that greets my eyes.
Acquiescing to enthrallment, I linger there
where tranquility’s quintessence abides,
inhaling October’s unique potpourri.
Dusk will soon swallow up the day,
so I begin my descent. Birds twitter; leaves whisper.
Seeing me, a timid rabbit scampers behind a bush.
Heaven seems fused with the terrain,
igniting my world with iridescence
as against a splash of persimmon, seagulls soar.
How I would love to glide home like those glorious birds.
Intoxicated by the rhapsody of colors,
I come to the bottom of the trail with just enough time
to reach my home’s comfort before night’s chill
envelops all.
Dec. 16, 2022
For Eve Roper's Still-Life Autumn Scene Poetry Contest
Categories:
hike up, autumn,
Form:
Free verse
To get away from the noise daily heard
around me, I decided I would take
a hike up the one mountain which has stirred
me with its beauty, for I’ve had an ache
to leave the world’s commotion for a while.
I took the normal path but felt compelled
to wander off it. Then after a mile,
I found a hidden spot which magic held.
I ducked beneath low hanging limbs of trees.
A songbird’s chirp had lured me to that place.
I followed that old trail as summer’s breeze
caressed me. Soon I felt as if God’s grace
embraced me too. Nearby a brook I lay
in utter bliss and wishing I could stay!
Categories:
hike up, nature,
Form:
Sonnet
What if..
What if; it wasn't a lockdown forenoon
Mommies whisking to kitchenette
Daddy's out with newspaper headlines
Little cubs denned in their late quilt and wishing no schooling today
Rest world racing themselves to indulge in work deadlines
What if; it wasn't a lockdown noon
Chefs busy preparing victuals to serve in eateries
Office canteens loaded with lunch boxes and gossips
Some heading for evening tales
What if; it wasn't a lockdown evening
Coffee shops buzzing with bud pairs, roasted coffee beans and whiffs of smoke
Peeps roaming and returning their abodes before the dark was deep
Little cubs falling asleep in their study and no Surf, no Netflix
What if; it wasn't a lockdown night
Dinner table would filled with traffic and homework folklore
Bedtime would doubly the fairy's list-
Children wishing for no school tomorrow,
Men for hike up his business,
Women emancipation from irons of household chores and society norms
What if; it wasn't a lockdown
Contemporary would have been so lost in it's own bloods and veins
June month would have brought us fruity summer of 2020
And I would have written a poetry of love and lust
Categories:
hike up, 12th grade, beauty, conflict,
Form:
Epigram
I had just reached the summit of the mountain;
The final reward for my four hour hike up the steep terrain.
There was still snow in abundance at the peak
Even though the summer sun bathed me in light from the cloudless sky.
The sweat, in which I was fully drenched,
Was turning cold against my aching body once I sat down for a rest and a view of the wondrous landscape below.
Each deep breath I inhaled further cleansed my soul; further restored my spent energy.
I sat and contemplated.
Even though I was alone, atop this glorious mountain;
Even though I passed no other hikers along the trail on which I labored for four hours;
Even though I was so high up, I could not make out any signs of human life in the miles and miles of God’s green earth that stretched out before me down below;
I somehow felt less lonely here than I do when I walk amongst the hordes of people in a mall;
Or, sit in a crowded theater;
Or, stand on the train because there are no seats left upon which to sit;
Or, walk the hallways of an office building full of employees just waiting for the time to go home.
At the same instance, while in awe of the beauty in the scenery I took in,
I felt so miserably insignificant and yet, so magnificently important.
My legs ached. My heart pounded. My feet throbbed. My back tightened. And, I had never felt better in all my life.
I sipped water from the bottle that accompanied me up the mountain.
I ate the power bar with the knowledge that going back down is no easy proposition.
I watched the sun slowly get closer to the distant horizon.
And, I smiled. And, I cried.
Then, it came time to head back down.
I felt like I was leaving my best friend on my way back to prison to finish out my sentence:
Found guilty of having accumulated debts that must be paid;
Found guilty of having responsibilities demanding my attention;
Found guilty of embarking on a career path that rewards me monetarily while sucking away the spirit of my soul.
But, I will be back. Not to this same mountain, but certainly to this same state of mind on another peak.
This is my rehabilitation. This is my church. This is my salvation.
Categories:
hike up, introspection, life,
Form:
Free verse
Jack had to psych up
Just to go hike up
That hill with that Jill
Who was such a pill,
So he felt that tyke up!
(Thanks to Andrew "Dice" Clay)
Categories:
hike up, parody,
Form:
Limerick
Partnachklamme
The most beautiful place
Above the Bavarian resort town of Garmisch-Partenkirchen,
There winds a country road which leads to the Partnach gorge.
Hikers are passed by less hearty tourists transported in hay wagons.
On the left side of the road, a river can be spotted through the lindens.
The river water looks like it was drawn with aquamarine pastels,
Having been super-oxygenated from the gorge’s rapids and cascades.
Playful locals built miniature dwellings and piers along the banks.
Loggers used to hike up the dangerous gorge to unblock log jams,
So safer paths were tunneled in and along the walls of the gorge.
So many sight-seers used to sneak up the loggers trails for the views,
That logging ceased and the gorge became a tourist destination.
At the mouth of the gorge, a guest house sells carbonated buttermilk,
Weiswurst, and other Bavarian specialties to fortify or refresh.
During the holiday season, pilgrims carefully hike the trails
Carrying torches which reflect from the icicles and frozen walls.
Waterfalls, narrows, bridges, and a logger chapel
All add to the charm of Partnach Gorge.
Categories:
hike up, beauty, nature, river,
Form:
Prose Poetry
The democracy balloon is dragging the ground,
Bouncing and skipping shaking it down,
A tisket a tasket …we’re in the basket
Getting lost as before we were found.
We know better ..but are we stuck?
Do we still know which way is up?
A tisket a tasket, there’s a chicken, just ask it
Are all your eggs in one basket?
Well there’s uncle Sally kissin’ on uncle Bill,
All their eggs in the coop up on capitol hill,
What’s the fix?
It’s all in back of thee.
Abundance gone to complacency,
And sliding to apathy.
A tisket a doter,
What happened to the voter?
Government growing past thirty percent,
With or without voter’s consent.
The country’s fate is in the basket, we trashed it.
Where’s the common sense?
It took a hike, jumped the fence,
To bigger government,
That’s no compliment .
Democracy, this republic
dying soon dead,
Social system resurrected,
and gone in the red.
Get on the phone, Constitution’s blown,
you didn’t know ?
it started back when ,
Where have you been?
Those who rape welfare and don’t care,
and others who by millions come illegally,
for their culture’s vote, are treated regally
Hike up the worker’s tax to the max.
Laws made up for the common working woman and man
that exclude the President and congress are a sham.
What happened to common sense?
Traded for two pence.
“Enlightened” citizens have one point two babies,
Abortion murders allowed from haedes.
A tisket a tasket, don’t look in THAT basket!
Wombs are tombs but what the heck, be politically correct?
Democracy balloon is draggin the ground,
Bouncing and skipping, shaking it down.
There’s a fortune cookie rolling around,
That says we’re dictator bound.
We’ve missed it so don’t mask it
We had it and voter’s trashed it.
That’s all I have the heart to say
on this God given day,
Except to sadly say,
goodbye to
the good ole...
U.S. of A.
Categories:
hike up, history
Form:
Rhyme
Is it becoming apparent yet
That mankind wants to fly off earth in a jet
They are filled with so much pain and sorrow
For they direct there own path today and tomorrow
There are so many filled with so much hate
And this will be stopped at the gate
Unless they repent before its to late
So many walk in blindness and stumble
Watch out there's another one in a tumble
Oh will that one ever learn
For they keep breaking line not waiting there turn
They claim to love God and seek His way
If God is in all these I shall stay inside and pray
Are maybe take a hike up a mountain
For I will drink only from His fountain
For so many only love those of there race
This is not the love of God are His grace
If one sees things are improving
One should pack up and get moving
If you are for the things of this earth
Then my friend you are in need of rebirth
Not from the mom which you where in her womb
But from the one that could not be held in a tomb
That gate we look to enter so far away
We first need God in our temple to stay
Oh come back do not follow the others and stray
Ye harbour the things of flesh behind your wall
Only God can break these to fall
To seek God you will need to abandon man
That seek to cause hate and division with there fan
Through the glory of God I saw this and ran
Well mankind if you fly off in a jet
This will not stop the things yet
For you will still face death
I pray God fills you with His breath
Categories:
hike up, fate,
Form:
Rhyme
Buttemere to Ulla pike,our walk more ramble than hike.Up and down,rain or
snow,two teenage daughters in tow.Haystacks,Loweswater overlooking the
lake,now locked in memory's keepsake.Up Skiddaw and Wythrop beck,much
much longer than our usual trek.Through the wood onto Dodds crag,both the
girls now starting o flag.Down the slope to Underseer stopping to buy a small
souvenir.Out on the fell with spongy moss,Wainwright in hand as the paths
cross-cross.Along the beck in a tree lined walk,watching the antics of a hovering
hawk.Deer grazing 'neath woodland trees,Cartmel to Keswick,just the place to
take one's ease.lunch-time picnics on grassy banks,vacations now recalled with
much thanks.
Categories:
hike up, family, holiday, nature, places,
Form:
Prose Poetry
A deputy leads the way
up a winding mountain road
to a pullout by a bridge.
From there, we hike up rabbit trails
and shimmy over logs
with late spring runoff
rushing underneath.
At last we come
to a grassy fringe of meadow,
lush with lupine, buttercups
and columbine. The deputy
points to a length
of floral silk
tossed aside, now circled
with police tape
yellow as butterweed.
We search, but
we find nothing.
No dead body, no
evidence of crime.
I gaze out over the lake
and wonder what lovers
happened on this place
forgetful as heaven, and left
only this proof
behind.
Categories:
hike up, happiness, love, nature,
Form:
Free verse
I sit down and crap spews out forth my pen,
It splatters the page, in a signature grand.
Grand for society, and grand to the dog,
Grand to the illiterate, whose dominance is smog.
Why, polluted minds, my poetry is perfection!
Once beauty is stripped in each girl’s reflection:
Predictable as a cloud, plain as the yellowed grass,
Thoughts a colourless canvas, oh so populous.
Now we know that fame is well-deserved,
So hike up your skirts, and put your creativity to work.
Categories:
hike up, life, satire,
Form:
Free verse
How lucky am I to live close by the iconic Beachy Head
From below I can hike up a very steep hill
Though on reaching the top I can feel quite ill
So nowadays I travel by bus there instead
Such very sad stories of troubled souls
Who arrived there, but never went home
For despite the wonder and beauty untold
As a suicide spot it has come to be known
Despite sadness and trauma of troubled souls past
As they leapt to their deaths in despair
Such tranquillity and peace I feel in the air
Whenever I visit; whenever I’m there
The feeling of calm that abounds all around
Surely comes from those souls as they soared
They are now at peace no more suffering or pain
Free from their troubles they are joyful again
I truly hope they reached a place
Where no longer they feel pain
For in this life they found no joy
They had to leave - had to destroy
So guided by a mourning dove
To a tranquil place instilled with love
Written on 5th October 2018
Contest Strand Choice V
Sponsor Brian Strand
HONORABLE MENTION
Categories:
hike up, feelings, sad, suicide, sweet
Form:
Rhyme
We all know the story about
Little Miss Muffet,
but did she ever get over
being arachnophobic,
and Jack and Jills little
hike up the hill,
did they ever recover
from their nasty spill,
and poor Humpty Dumpty
with his tragic plummet,
were all the kings men using
his remains to make an omelette,
and Rock-a-Bye Babys cradle
being placed on a treetop,
were the babys parents
ever apprehended,
and the London Bridge
which is falling down,
why is the infrastructure
so shoddy, was it designed
by some clown,
and last but not least,
when playing
Ring around the Rosie,
does poor Rosie ever
get to survive,
these are the cliffhanging
nursery rhymes we
grew up singing with fun,
but like an inquisitive detective
want to re-open each case
and solve each and every one!
Categories:
hike up, humor, nursery rhyme,
Form:
Light Verse
As my last night appears to end
With the sun gleaming into my eyes
I had fallen asleep on the deck
Counting stars in the sky
There was a brisk wind
Yet, warmth all around
The coffee was ready
The beauty of the water profound
A change in plans today
Since yesterday, my vehicle got stuck
Flagged down a nice neighbor
With a big tractor truck
A hike up Corey Peak
Just boots, water pack, no clothes
A beautiful forest hides back there
Just nobody knows
Time for a nap
Home is calling my name
Just a coupla hours away
Back to life's game
A well deserved break
Something I needed so much
The only thing missing
Was some ones touch
Categories:
hike up, adventure, health, peace, water,
Form:
Rhyme