Best Mountain Poems


On Mountain Nine

Running beauty rippled in crystal white
No whisper in the air, just a wondrous sight
My eyes ascend in awe to a far light
Small and empty observing such a height
Nature in colours captured in delight
Ready to be filled with bliss and insight
Melt in silence, a faint soul to excite
Drifted with music, poem to recite
My thoughts wrapped into words and put aside
My fancies are now poised set for a flight
A heart into throbbing beauty subsides
The summit I can reach and meet my fright
Exultant to feel not gems but a mine
Yearning to have peace seeds sown deep inside
Sweet lyrics bring my very soul to life
Soft music tunes me to mountain nine.

Mountain Church

Four friends and I, one Sunday, take a ride.
our church still closed just short of one full year.
We drive, white almond blooms on either side,
instead. Their branches wave as if to cheer,
“Prepare the way! Prepare the way for God!”
Each blade of mountain grass we see arise,
like little children singing praises, laud.
Some tiny purple flowers sing reprise,
join fiddlenecks of gold, much like stained glass
to deck the mountain like an A-frame church.
We slowly drive the narrow mountain pass
to see the valley from a lookout perch.
The treetops seem to bow, like they declare
their love for God. In awe, we join their prayer.


March 7, 2021
Breath of Spring Poetry Contest
Contest Sponsor: Regina McIntosh

Premium Member Mountain Serenade

This oversized wooden chair feels oddly comfortable as we snuggle up on the raised deck of our cabin at the summit of an anonymous mountain here in Luray. No need for conversation. The tree frogs and crickets understand. They sing a superlative song of love as we, their willing and captive audience, take it all in through the senses. 

The clock rewinds as our carnal instincts cause our blood to rise in temperature. We are young once more, and in a few moments will retire to our rented room to enjoy each other as though it was the first time all over again.

Afterward, at the midnight hour and under a violet moon surrounded by a canopy of a billion stars, I will recite love poetry to the one I adore. Love lives here, in this mountain, in all its glorious splendor. The tree frogs and crickets understand.

sweet sounds of summer
a maiden and her lover
intimate moments
© Tom Woody  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member A Mountain From a Pile

How far do the ripples spread, when eventually we die 
Probably stay in the locality, level off, no major outcry
But let’s say we’re famous, suffering unexplained death 
The ripples keep expanding, growing further in breadth 

See the grotesque nature of spin, is to overplay a scene 
Garnishing public outrage, lurid pictures fill our screens 
Playing to an audience, ratings become the holy grail 
Stories without embellishments, grow tiresomely stale 

These ripples are an illusion, imagination going berserk
Carried along by a corrupt deception, truth been shirked 
Evidence the one requirement, for establishing all facts
I extrapolate backwards, what the hell there’s no splash 

Lines converge into partial truths, confused to a degree 
Must be taken with a pinch of salt, querying what I see
Even this soup we enjoy, is manipulated and massaged
Most of the poems are quite good, others form a mirage 

Taken out of context a rectangle, can become a square 
Brought into focus, desolate pictures, not quite so bare
What’s basically a clean stab, or slash across the wrist 
When poets stick in the knife, some give it a good twist

Using poetry for a hidden agenda, political or otherwise 
Tantamount to mind-numbing crap, seen in the tabloids 
If your going to post propaganda, to further some game 
Write it on toilet paper, wipe off, that’s all you’ve gained 

 By
David Kavanagh

You'Ll Be a Mountain

I know its hard to imagine now
But some day you’ll be the key and not the lock
The exception not the rule
Some day you’ll be a source of strength to others
Even though today you feel so weak
You’ll be a voice amongst the starlight
And they will listen when you speak
I know it's hard to imagine now
When you’re feeling broken & so small
But one day you’ll be a mountain
And your pain will be worth it all
~ Louise Simpson

I Am the Mighty Mountain

I stand, the most statuesque, peeking through the clouds
that lend their softness as my pillow when sun in midnight drowns.

Golden sun, a fitting crown for a majesty such as me;
Somber moon, my nightcap; tundra stockings on my feet.

Veins of icy water; hair of snow drifts white.
I, the ladder Jacob dreamt of, one revealing night.

Would you climb and be my king, upon my peak to rest?
Or meet, descending from the heavens, doom's Angel of Death.

Dare to move me by your faith as the man from Galilee;
or does my might leave you in doubt to tremble on your knees?

Against my chest, Thor strikes his hammer; thunder fills your ears.
From my shoulders, he takes aim; arching lightening spears.

Haven to monstrous legends as the abominable snow beast;
hidden in tales of lore, on nonbelievers he does feast.

Bursting forth from earthen womb, a giant granite fountain. 
Ancient tower of vast unknowns; I am the mighty mountain.


Mountain of Regrets

As large boulders weep,
Tears stream down sharp cheeks of stone:
Sobbing precipice.

Premium Member When Eyes Close

For Jack and the Blueridge Mountains
Close my eyes ~
	I’m on that mountain
	lush with Autumn taste.

Close my eyes ~
	We are love entwined
	in crisp fall leafed lace.

Close my eyes ~
	Lips of first perfect kiss,
	once more bliss moist my lips

Close my eyes ~
	We are young again,
	connecting eyes, souls and skin

Close my eyes ~
	Sharply, my satin-sad edged truths
        wonder if autumn ever takes you … too …                                                

Close your eyes ~
	Kiss me with eager touch.  As fire’s savior,
	thrill to shivers in dew soft, mountain air.
	Caress-wrapped, we lay in misty vapor
	from dusk’s bursting promise of brazen flush
	until dawn’s fresh sonnet on takings rush.

Close your eyes ~
	Grasp our hearts of innocent stares
		watching how teenage summer dies
                     when feelings are autumn implied

Premium Member Mind and Mountain

MIND AND MOUNTAIN

Life
A climbing process
A gradual, grand ascent to view?
Mind can inveigle such

To go where all manner wild affecting grows
Foothills of some towering height
Mind can spirit one there

Ascent would be steep
Though earnest, determined
Path narrow
With stones of many sizes underfoot

And trees!
Such a wealth of enduring life
Resonating valley view

At intervals 
See a meadow
Brook and wild life passing through

At one of these lush spreads
I would stop
Dabble toes in the crystal stream

Then push on
Seeking      seeking
A view of the top

And the summit
Hazy through the mist
Well above timberline

Many stones now
Huge boulders
Make faulting my climb

The backward glance, though, faultless, clear
But rare the breath
Weakening the will

At last the top
Ah, the pain!
With blue heaven still afar

Dave Austin

Mountain Oasis

The trail to the peak was a long and arduous climb
Which skirted a pristine glacial lake about midway.
Shimmering below, it offered a cooling balm for the heat
And a picturesque spot to rest and refuel for a while.

A short down-climb led to a high cliff that overhung the depths
Of aquamarine waters; crystal clear, revealing a rocky bottom.
Chartreuse lichen grew from the wetted rock face
While damsel flies of cerulean hue darted to and fro.

In the shade of a small oak we were content to eat our lunch.
From our vantage we watched the cutthroat trout feed;
Rising to a caddis hatch. Splashes of watermelon, coral and saffron
Under their jawlines divulged the source of their strange name.  

Fronting the shore, a spacious open meadow served as a refuge.
A doe and twin fawns lay surrounded by tall grass and wild flowers.
Tangerine bells, snow-white lupine, and purple daisies with lemon eyes
In hues of lavender and lilac covered the park in waves.

After a short dip in the icy waters, we took a few moments to gather our things
And reflect on the beauty and grandeur of this unknown retreat.
Truly we were blessed, our bodies, minds and souls rejuvenated 
As we climbed the slope to continue our trek to the snow-capped peak.



8/1/2017
Free Verse

6th Place
Seasonal Color Contest
Sponsor:  Dale Gregory Cozart
© Dean Wood  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Wild Mountain Honey

Old Mountain tales of love spin 
     'neath dawn's blush,
Elderberries, purple ink drop pearls 
     drawing me nigh.
Ah! Her laughter just like a honeybee’s dance 
     in the summer’s rush.

For you ignite my days with passion, 
     'tis morn, a tear I cry
The calm, twilight lingers as her words 
     soft and low
In the caress of wildflowers where life’s 
     tranquility forever grows.

O'! Upon thy lips such sweetness dwells
     Must be God's design
Born where dandelions and wild bees 
     forever intertwine.
O', nectar kissed by sun untouched by 
     human hands
An arcadian panorama of ambrosia 
     upon my senses' land.

Thine gaze is my beacon in the 
     moonlit’s silvery velvet light.
You my guiding star ignites 
     for all my spirit’s journey 
     O' my soul’s delight
For as a life-alchemists seek nectar 
     deep in the mountain’s heart.

Thy love's an enchanting lore where peace 
     like nestling lark.
All the sages sighs, thymes' tempting lore 
     a beautiful pure chorus
Heather fills rolling landscapes
     an untold story before us.

Yes, my love's confession takes flight 
     with wild abandon
In the sanctuary, a haven bathed 
     in golden dawn
Thy touch is a sacred psalm 
     a sonnet on the wind
Radiant grace, I scribe my song 
     on every blossom's stem
Sunlight filters through sylvan green leaves 
    just for you.
Thy smile, a warmth that sees my spirit
     through and through.
Our love, eternal, untamed by 
     fleeting space or time.

A taste of heaven's dew 
     a love of purest and most divine.
Together, hand in hand
     we'll stray through life's inviolate maze
Where wildflowers bloom 
      and hearts forever graze.

No jeweled crown
      arrayed in silks and finery
Could display the love, my beloved 
     I found forever in thee.

For You are my sweet lady, 
     my songbird 
     my forever home
My wild mountain honey
     where my spirit roams. 

In thee, a love unbound 
     sweeter than sun-kissed dew
My Wild Mountain Honey
     forever wild
          forever true.

Premium Member As I Watched the Fiery Red Sun Slip Behind the Mountain

As I Watched The Fiery Red Sun Slip Behind The Mountain

As I watched the fiery red sun slip behind the mountain
I tossed a silver dollar in the wishing well fountain
My dear wish was for the hand of my very passionate lover
And life together that such bountiful happiness covers
She that tells me, "my darling, my sleepy head, rise thee from bed"
Let us sightsee this world, and watch that huge falling ball of red
Me there pretending not to hear, but my lover knows my game
She laughingly dances right on over and yells out the same
And then she lays a very soft and a long passionate kiss
And that is the sweetest blessing that I did not want to miss
I reached out to snatch my lover into our large silk bed
Saying, "darling let just stay here and make sweeter love instead."

As I watched the fiery red sun slip behind the mountain.
I tossed a silver dollar in the wishing well fountain.

Robert J. Lindley, Sonnet
9-07-2023

Premium Member Mountain Drop

`~ MoUNTAIN DRoP~

I want to be like the mountain top.  
The higher I go, the less room I have to stop. 
A moment to think~ a moment to slow. 
With one look down!  
I release my breath and let it flow. 
My fallen star has hit the ground. 
Life's deepest thoughts will never be found. 
When no ones around! 
I will allow myself to drown,
only when the world brings me down. 
 
I want to take that key! 
Turn it around, and get lost in that moment only I see. 
I want to lose my soul!
I am ready to go!
I am ready to look! 
Ready to fall!
Ready to leave!
Leave it all! 
 
Jumping off the edge when I hit rock bottom. 
Or, should I continue my lies 
and pretend  to be the best in every ones eye! 
The best to climb the mountain top. 
Reaching for them stars in the skies 
The best~never to look down. 
The best will never be good enough for me. 
While I am around...

~~ SKAT ~~
© Skat A   Create an image from this poem.

This Mountain Here

I remember the day I got the call.
My world fell apart.
I had lost it all.

I remember the day you were taken from me.
I knew your beautifull smile I would never again see.

They said it was a mugger and you put up a fight.
I should not have  let you go out that night.

It seems like just yesterday we fed eachother our wedding cake.
When I remember that memory my hands start to shake.

I sit in my cabin on this mountain with the sky so blue.
I won't leave. This's where I spent my honeymoon with you.

My family wants me to go back into that world, so cold.
I'm not leaving this mountain.
It's where I'll grow old.

They say your gone and will never again be.
Well, I hear what your saying. Yes, I know your talking to me.

You sit in the chair and drink my tea. 
My heart swells up when you smile at me.

They say I've gone insane and see things that aren't there.
If I'm on this mountain here why should they care?

I love you more then I did when we first found this place.
I remeber everything about you, your ellagince and grace.

Why am I not in that world full of anger and fear?
I want to be with you on this mountain here.
© Misty Hoot  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Message On the Mountain -

Answers were needed, like wind direction,
she could feel him heavy in her heartbeat,
it was a good weight, the kind carelessness brings to capricious carress,
his toe prints still in the trail of beach paths in her fantasy's shores,
were his words an omen of futurity's obsession,
is his face a language for love or lust,
could there be blessings in knowing his total nature,
is he alive as art in her soul, or is he a bore when brought before her banquet,

to the mountain mystic she journeyed with joltings in her guessings,
a Seer who fed the mountains spirit syrup from a collection of wasted wants
spread forth by reused wine bottles, labels changed but all blue from experiences,
the gypsy, to wise to be pretty, and too natural to be ugly
enquired of the woman with youth as a weapon and curiosity as a concern,
"What is the most dangerous thing you've ever done?",
and she replied, 'falling in love', smiling out of embarrassment,
the gypsy smiled too, remembering all that,
after being given the man's name, a simple photo, and a birth date
she stared into Time gone missing, exhaled from a soft stun
and told the inquisitive girl,
"He'll meet you in these mountains,
where gypsies speak of love in cards and legacies in crystals..."

J.A.B.

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