Best Travels Poems


Premium Member The Ghost That Travels Far

There comes without a warning,
one in hooded mantle grey,
with silent footfall treading. . . 
treading nightfall into day.
An eerie mist - mysterious -
he haunts the valley floor.
He surges on through deep of night
and rolls along the shore.

And through the forest - 
pressing on -
he wraps his cloak round trees.
The wanderers in empty woods
will feel much less at ease.

Then along a wall he creeps,
or climbs a city stair.
In seconds, traffic crawls with him.
Pedestrians, take care!
For those on foot within the fringe
of Phantom’s murky cape
will sense a chill -
the apparition’s breath upon their nape.

I wonder what this specter seeks;
what answer that he needs. . .
impelling him 
                 to travel far
                         before his gloom recedes.


Previously For Thvia Shetley's 
"Clever Analogies if you please!"

Premium Member Delicious Food I Ate During My Travels

If you judge food with the quantity put before you
Then my first choice will be the Victoria Hotel*.
On Sunday lunch, food is too plentiful, makes you blue.
There we will eat so much it will make our tummies swell.

In my travels, I had times when food was super great.
Like when in sunny Ireland we drove up a high hill.
Fragrant smell of seafood, an inevitable bait,
And who cared about driving, chilled white wine was a thrill.

Athens and the Acropolis, a sight to explore.
We descended on foot and found a farm that served meals
We poured some white wine I had never tasted before,
Various cuts of lamb tastefully spiced, worth the deals.

One surprise was in Switzerland, on a mountain high.
My wife and I opted for a trout for the first time.
It was deliciously tasteful, we could almost fly.
We shared a second helping, costed many a dime.

I suppose there are other good times when food excelled,
But Urk in Holland was my biggest surprise of all.
A shack near the sea served food but not even a smell
We ate the finest fresh sole, the chef we had to call.

But the worst food I partook in was in old Brazil
Only meat and hormone-fed chicken, cooked with no skill.

NB The Victoria Hotel is situated in Sliema, Malta, not far from where I live.  The food there is always first class, except for the wine :)

Premium Member Toms Travels

In a show of manic one-upmanship
With my wife saying, “Just get a grip.”
I planned an adventure to show I’m well travelled
The spoiler to that is the whole thing unravelled

I looked at the brochures and boy was I keen
Determined to find somewhere Tom hadn’t been
That man is a nomad, he never sits still
He just grabs a suitcase and travels at will

[At this point please lend me a bit of your time
for this advance warning of appalling rhyme]
My legs are so white that I ought to be sunning ’em
I’ll find somewhere warm that’s eluded Tom Cunningham

I made a quick sandwich with pickle from Branston
And then thought EUREKA…I’ll call Richard Branson
I sold a few organs and Gran’s silver spoon
And raised enough money to fly to the moon

He said he does orbits then back down to earth
A trip to the moon was more grief than it’s worth
I grabbed Branson’s beard and said “Listen to me,
you’re gonna help me outdo Mr C.”

Well, long story short, I arrived on old Luna
Tom might have planned it but I got there sooner
Then a little green man said, “Is Earth where you’re from?
When you get back home again… say ‘Hi’ to Tom.”


The Small Room

He kept a small room
he wasn’t in it very often
but it was there and he knew it
it was safe

for though life had opened roads
that needed to be trodden
and he was often far away
his room was 
waiting for him

in it was his bookcase
teal blue stained wood
shelves of a life explored
childhood memories  
books about dinosaurs  and the moon
pictures and piggy banks
old record albums and 
his Titanic collection

there were two hickory chairs
old world charm in light pink brocade
a gift of decades past

and his library desk, a rare find
and one to keep for its 
mahogany leather embossed  top
its drawers crammed with 50 years of
incidentals, papers and letters
and brochures

on its walls,  his oils and watercolors
kept guard
his paintings from a long ceased dalliance 
in art

he kept a small room
to visit
for though he believed that home 
is where love is and can be anywhere
he also knew that a seed planted
can grow and grow
but its roots must survive

Premium Member My Holiday Travels - Part 1

One of the loveliest islands I've been
Malta fits that bill without doubt
Valletta and Mellieha are real highlights
summer sunshine is an attraction to count

Venice is one beauty without doubt
surrounded fully by water all around
St Marks square takes one's breath away
an experience to make one astound

Being one who loves a good walk
the island of Menorca fits the bill
Mao being the capital on the bay
lovely forests bring nature so still

The island of Madeira has a nice climate
having such lovely fish, wine, and fruit
Funchal being its capital is majestic
such richness grows at its very root

A holiday that took us down the Med
to spend it in lovely Cyprus no less
there the sun did shine every day
shorts and t-shirts were regular dress

Premium Member GALACTIC TRAVELS


Where should I zoom to, perhaps to the Moon,
And on my way will juggle with millions of stars,
I have whispered to a Comet passing by real soon,
To please pick me up, as i plan to visit Mars.
Most of all I want to feel the star dust on my face,
And hear choirs of angels as they upon me gaze.
My wish upon a star,
To swim in the Milky Way,
I long, to be in the Galaxy, 
I dream of such a day,
I want to feel the sands 
Of Mars, run through my hands,
Hope to see shooting stars, and also Meteoroids,
But terrified to see a hurtling Asteroid,
Wish to explore many other Galactic planets,
Google, my best friend right from the start,
Though neither of us sure of the stratosphere’s
Patterns, so advised to be sure, to take with me a jacket.


Premium Member Vogonian Travels

Grunttenly I fretted the krakening;
Asthe ship dawns the horizon;
Burtworthy emplosions grafting;
Microrations gobblestone variants;
Up holding yon populats;
Ole!! thy fellows freddled Vogonian;
Banquish thessalonian squall;

4/20/19
written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©

Walks Slow, Travels Far

Walks Slow, Travels Far
   Their names were bestowed
Destined to meet
          On life’s rambling road

Dark and determined
             Walks Slow was to be
He’d never give up
             His goal, he could see

She was so fair
             A bright morning star
For strength and endurance
      They called her Walks Far

And when the day came
                 Their paths to unite
With love realized
                  Their story to write

Walks Slow, Travels Far
               No longer are known
Called now Loves Forever
          As one they have grown

Premium Member My Mid Winter Orange Travels

The blooming luster of citrus oil
upon my pine cabinets, tantalizes my senses
and I am transported to the tropics, 
escaping midwinter’s clutches.

The sun-kissed, sterling baubles
adorning each rolling wave’s crest,
are pearlesque raindrops dancing upon the 
eternal sands; tiny cantaloupe balls for a
sand-crab’s weekend party.

A golden-orange sky-orb hangs above the 
crystalline waters of the Atlantic;
a tangerine, popcorn ball for the angels to share.
I watch the cloud-angels gather overhead;
Raphaelite puffs swarm the carrot-colored skies;
a gathering of sacred rites, 
that I am privileged to witness.

My skin drinks in the sweet, apricot nectar
from Heaven’s light-spray and I take another sip of 
chilled Orange-Julius...ahh...

Premium Member Ravelled In Travels and Timbreless Tales

Ever         Know                  True

On           Irrisistible            Insight

Night        Luminessence      Must 

Shores      Luring                  Ever                




copyright Joe Maverick 2011:)

Travels In the Subjunctive

If I could just step back in time
I'd sojourn by a waterfall, and every morning
I'd drink of all the beauty and the mystery
that it affords.  I'd note with gratitude
the little watermill, and for its silent slave
the ponderous millstone grinding endlessly.

I'd sing the praises of what might have been.
The peace that finally decided to remain--
that donned the robes of nevermore,
a fitting tribute to a war whose only spoils
were obsolescence, sacrifice and pain.

The master poets might just move a bit
along the bench to make a little
space for me to take my place among them,
though this is merely flight of fantasy
the sun could never shine upon.

It could, however, flame the skies
with joys we do not even know.  More,
they will surely owe their genesis
to us, not air or space or star.
I see subjunctive journeying as its own eponymn...
another tool of consciousness to say:
"It is not time for rest. Seek on."
       ~

My Travels

My travels start 
Right here 
Deep in my mind
My travels take me just where
I please I don't have 
To leave my warm room

My travels start 
Sixteen sun
Beating down
Sinatra's crooning Jobim
And I'm just dreaming of my
Great romance to come

I don't need a little ticket
Tells me I can take the train
I don't even to risk it 
There's no blistering sun 
Or driving rain
And it's here that I remain

My travels end 
With a sweet 
And peaceful time
I've found such sense deep within
No more will I feel 
The need to go travelling again.

Safe Travels

I walk dark
Mid night camouflage my face
Provide sanctuary against
Malicious souls and deadly spirits 
Who seek to pick my life to insanity
Who offer my body up as road kill
A decade ago, five years ago, yesterday, tomorrow;

Smiles bright as the sun in mid sky
 Grins at dusk 
Sneers at twilight
Mocks mid night;

Flesh pick from 
Blue black brown bodies 
Peel back by hot coal 
Set to noose five hundred years of dreams;

I slide through the darkness
Naked
For safety
Mid night camouflage my likeness
Blinds malicious souls and deadly spirits to my breath;

I watch
Listen
As siblings dressed in multi-colored joys
Are picked insanely from life 
Torn from the fabric of their mid day lies
By truth of white fire
Rope 
Tar
Blood.

As Time Travels

As Time travels …….
Time has no destination
He travels from train station to train station
Situation after situation at a different location

As Time travels….
Making friends along the way
Friends meant for a life Time
Or friends for  one single day

Time goes by…..then he met a Lie
All looks well………
Until he past trough hell
Why oh why did this Lie… say hi

Time to call his old friend, Truth
He always has the answer
Truth said it is Time to say…….goodbye
To this trouble bringing Lie

As Time travels….
Next to him an empty seat
Distance after distance
Making no difference

As Time travels….
Thinking the end is near
He hears someone say……..
“Are these seats taken, my dear”?

“I am Patience and this is my sister Faith
Tell me why are you traveling this late”?
“My name is Time and I have no place to go
I just sit….and wait, wait….and wait”

As Time travels…….
Having a long and deep conversation
Explaining about his desperation ….
His longing for an unknown location

As time travels…..
Listing to Faith and Patience
Understanding all wise words they have to say
Take your Time just live your way….. day by day

“Excuse me, my I intrude and say
Don't forget there is no such thing as regret
All the things in the past weren't meant to last
Standing still is a waste of Time…..it should be a crime”

“Outspoken stranger may I ask?
You know my name
And I wish to know the same”?
“Destiny ………that's what they call me”

As Time travels…..
He called his friend back home
“Hello ….Hope my dear
I know long Time no hear”

“We have some catching up to do
I really like to meet with you
Because I met this amazing lady
I think she is the one…..maybe”????

In Time……….
Time will tell …. If all goes well
As time travels…….
With his Destiny

Travels

Tiring of travels 
Tired of seeing new places
Even cruises with all their comforts
Just happy being traveless 
No more restlessness 
Just being happy in Vancouver
With its mild summers, mild winters

Tired of waiting in airports
Delayed flights
Hotels with uncomfortable beds

Time to just be restful at home
And avoid all the hassles of travel
Only reminisce of happy moments
In the past
Traveling in my youth
Europe, South America, Asia

Just reminisce now
Of past travels.
© Ed Farolan  Create an image from this poem.

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