Best Wanderlust Poems
In the endless expanse
of what exists
and the magic of what can be...
fantasy is the luster of opalescence
conceived in a continual curve of mother-of-pearl panache
spinning through a sacred spiral in effervescence
they arise - in bare necessity
and break the surface -
perceptions of prismatic potential
bending colors in the light of consciousness
daydreams delve
between realms of serenity and dampened spirits
amidst meditations
to unfurl the waves’ curl of life’s mysteries
where faceted riptides flash sun-diamonds
and twilight’s bruised beauty is but an abstract -
in mixed moody moon-shades
of earth’s passion and human nature
enriched with celestial nuances
I reflect within this mirrored space
as I search to adorn my naked thoughts in nacreous chic
breathing bliss and sipping soulful seas
my wild whimsy in wanderlust glides like an albatross
seeking the iridescence of the abalone shell --
a marvel of profound imagination
Susan Ashley
January 10, 2019
~ First Place ~
Premiere Contest: Free Verse Style Only Poetry
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
*nacreous: consisting of or having the luster of mother-of -pearl*
"Wearied Wanderlust"
upon a gilded meadow glows a bottle of tender tears
scattered ashes burnt and laden carpeting of stone
ravished emotions turbulent feasting on flesh and bone
filtering through fibers as escalating fears
harbor broken dreams evaporating in waning years
as visions petrified reside in somber tone
upon a gilded meadow glows
Life's chilling chant of haunted love still stalks
a tattered heart is wandering, wearied and all alone
swallowed a bittersweet taste of vacant cone
in endless patterns of desolate walks
upon a gilded meadow glows..
(Collaboration: Paul Callus & Carolyn Devonshire ~ Dec 2020)
I sit outside as evening settles in,
a teasing breeze plays gently with my hair
the mountains bathe in shades of twilight blue
a wondrous sight, but none with whom to share.
My journey seems to wear on me each day
but still I search to sate my hungry heart.
Perhaps I should have stayed with my true love,
for now I rue my motives to depart.
He left one day to chase elusive dreams
on restless winds to travel far and wide,
a promise made – it lingers in my mind:
On his return I was to be his bride.
She says she’s waiting patiently and yet
I blame myself for leaving her behind
because it seems I’ll never find more joy
than when our lives together were entwined.
I’ve waited long, but hope I shall retain.
A thirst for love has made of me a slave.
Emotions flow, not easy to explain.
Deep down I know his presence I still crave.
I found my way back home on Christmas Eve
and smiled when candles lit each window frame.
Her love still strong; I just had to believe –
tomorrow morn’ she’ll take my second name.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
© December 2020
The birds glide, I don’t know why
It gives me reason to sing
So who am I? What can I bring?
The trees grow, the waters flow
To take us far from here
So who are we? Why do we fear?
In all the glories shown to us,
We must give in to our wanderlust
To make amends for wrongs we’ve done
Inspire the dreams, in everyone
The lambs leap, the willows weep
To show us we can dance and cry
Don’t live a lie; just ask why
The oceans latch, seashells laugh
There’s always an escape
To the martyr’s smile, on the sun’s sweet dial
In all the glories shown to us,
We must give in to our wanderlust
To make amends for wrongs we’ve done
Inspire the dreams, in everyone
Don’t let it fade,
Don’t hold it down
The sky is open for us now
Just let them fly,
Those hurts we keep
Inspire the heart, inspire the dream!
In all the glories shown to us,
We must give in to our wanderlust
To make amends for wrongs we’ve done
Inspire the dreams, in everyone
In everyone
Inspire the dreams, in everyone
*This song is a collaboration with my older brother, Robert, who was inspired by two hawks soaring around each other earlier today. Younger brother, David, implemented some sweet harmonies that makes this song really special! *
I never asked to be born; yet now I am here
My journey through life is not one that I fear
I cherish each moment I live on this earth
Thank god for my mother for her labour and birth
I sail like a ship on a sparkling blue sea
Try avoiding the pitfalls that may befall me
Rising to the challenges as I navigate through life
Through childhood, adolescence, becoming a wife
We climb many mountains and difficulties we face
That’s the essence of being part of the human race
I’ll never let a new opportunity pass me by
I want to remain living until the day that I die
Jan Allison
08~12~14
Written for Wanderlust Contest Sponsored by Nette Onclaud
~awarded 5th place~
How can I sever wolf-waves from the selfish sea?
I ache to cut the rogue from the relentless flow
his crest—swelled in high rise on a testosterone tide—
swindles my tease to tame his blue Neptune flame
mocking my sun dried bed with unruly despise
he rides a white steed in petulant power with the moon
I am the passive strand of sand longing for his rhythm
oh timpani thunder roll in roll over me my skin awaits
taunt of aerated fate I await with serrated silence
stranded by him… I await… as inconsequential
as an oyster without a pearl
as a pearl unfulfilled without a knotted strand
I am the beach exposed at the lowest ebb
my eyes not sand-blind when cherry sun colors him red
and fuels his restless quest for honeypot conquests
to consummate sunset with supple skies far from home
and conjugate with sugar-shores not his own
my protests to his stray-sprees lay like loose scree
lure-lyrics litter air but then die a pale chitter in his ear
fruited gripes broken in breakers re-rhymed into pulp
summer-sweet to his palate as beach plum wine—
whine in the grind of my grain soundproofed by his kiss
where is his echo to my thirsty plea of love
when he’s the romeo sea and I’m the sand seduced
who exists in recline to absorb his homecoming
while beach-grass-bending-wind
whips my voice away from my throatless soul?
my resist drowns in liquid grooves of his Aquarian drum beat—
spume churned in our surf zone becomes spindrift in wind
echoes of the silent shore echo in me alone
“Autumn leaves don’t fall; they fly. They take their time and wander on this, their only chance to soar.” ~ Delia Owens
When I was born, I clung to my mother,
A little light green being,
God made me so unlike any other,
I flap flutter unmoving,
Thousands of my brothers and sisters live
With me and my mom, all green,
Dancing and swaying with the breeze active,
We rustle, bustle umpteen,
During Autumn, my colour becomes red,
And I know my end is near,
Away from mom's clasp, I will soon be dead,
There's only one thing to cheer,
Now I can go where the wind wishes me,
I will try out my new wings,
All my life passed by, content on a tree,
Now I can explore few things,
Happy, I soar, away from my mom's shade,
Journeying on a new quest,
Fly and glide over the grass and the glade,
Floating, I find final rest.
2nd January 2023
In my dreams I wander the corridors of mind;
twisting. turning corners into dark places that
when awake, I dare not go.
Into strange places with distorted faces;
full of ethereal spirits and ghosts.
Ghosts of mistakes, long past; errors made
on a conscious road without thought for the ends.
How they haunt me; those things so well tucked
in my subconscious...where I wander.
Yet, within my dreamtime state I crave the search;
for within, I find answers to questions and sometimes,
poems and paintings...
in my dreamtime wanderlust.
Ah, Wanderlust, my soul for you burned hot!
When fresh and filled with fancy, I could not
sit still for long, for I was wont to flee
the simple life with its monotony.
The moon and stars were mine (or so I thought).
In college when I turned eighteen, I bought
my ticket to that thrill I’d always sought
in lands I’d only read of, far from me;
Ah, Wanderlust!
Were life a novel, mine would have its plot
heat up significantly when I got
to Europe; wondrous sights I was to see.
Romance I even found! But destiny
has deemed adventure would not be my lot. . .
Ah, Wanderlust!
Written 8/15/14 by Andrea Dietrich for the Wanderlust Poetry Contest of nette
onclaude
Wanderlust.
When I was young, and just a girl
I wanted to travel around the world -
Casablanca, Marrakesh,
Rio de Janeiro and Budapest.
The more exotic the sound of the name,
the more I was drawn, like a moth to a flame.
I studied the atlas,
and stuck in pins
to highlight the places
where I would be going.
I planned plane journeys from East to West,
from Korea to Siberia,
and back again.
My aunt had a globe in her living room
and I spun it round and round, in a world of my own.
When it was getting dark, the globe seemed to shine
with continents so vast, and oceans sublime,
each night I imagined the people I would meet,
and how I’d introduce myself,
and what they’d say to greet
this small town girl with big,wide eyes,
that gazed into the distance, as if she was surprised.
Copyright Suzy Davies 07/29/2016. All Rights Reserved.
I’m often walking with a dream,
that no one else can see.
From time to time, it’s in my mind.
It’s such a part of me.
Though I can’t hold it in my hand,
I’ll try to make you understand.
I hear the back roads call my name.
In mystery, I’m drawn…
They hint of treasure, love, and fame,
if I embark by dawn…
I grab my keychain, so embossed -
"Not all who wander far are lost".
Life’s a script, the world - a stage.
Yet many read a single page…
Time to leave, I feel I must,
to satisfy my wanderlust…
Copyright © 2015
Tracing unmet steppes
In bedroom microclimates -
Sour paper futures.
Remind me of the sea that kisses the coast of Algiers
Where the tides are soft and the winds all but fierce
In that country past the strait of Gibraltar
Where the trip to Casablanca didn’t halt her
Taking a plane past the eye of the Mediterranean Sea
To the cheek of the Atlas Mountains in Jbel Ayachi
Tell me again, what you called the world’s left brow,
I believe it was either Kiev, or the city of Moscow
You journeyed on to the scarred eye of the Aral Sea
Where only sand was left to remind you of former glory.
Greeted eastward by the buildings of Ashgabat.
Which had a shade of white quite akin to that of Masqat.
There in Florence, where we visited the Sistine
Telling me you would soon be leaving for Argentine
Abruptly you went from the Chilean hills of Santiago
To concrete spires of New York and Chicago
Was it there that you heard an oriental song?
A melody you chased all the way to Hong Kong?
Though I might’ve confused myself with Singapore.
I’m quite certain it was either that, or Kuala Lumpur.
Fondly I think of our first kiss in the vineyards of Roubaix
Reminiscing me how strongly I miss your warm embrace
Making me hope that you’ll snap free of your peregrine
For I will patiently wait for you at gates of Berlin.
Sometimes you need to wander
Without a cause
Without purpose
Without a means
Without a reason for knowing why
Sometimes you need to wander
With lust
With purposeful lust
With a need to move from a stationary position
With no thoughts of a home
With no white picket fence
Sometimes you need to wander
Like down the Missouri River
Like a snowflake
Like a bouncing ball
Like a child with an imagination
To wander and wonder
What is on the other side of the moon
To wander to the moon because it might be pink
Maybe we spend our time wondering
Why we don't wander
Because we are afraid of the big wonder
If we were to wander
Maybe we spend our time wondering
Why we don't wander
Because we are afraid of facing loss
If we were to wander
Sometimes we need to wander
Because of a broken heart
Because time changes in small moments
But the Earth wanders around the Sun
And the stars wanders through the empty Milky Way
And the bumble bee wanders away from the hive
And our hearts wanders with lust for a better home
And our hearts wanders with every humming beat of our
souls for a better moment
On drowsy hamlets mobile hordes descend,
From tight-lipped forests rises a babel.
Wanderlust is to distant wonders sent,
As fleets of long-haul birds skyward rumble.
Where massed footprints to virgin lands extend,
And sights are packaged for all to sample,
Coy beauties in nature’s bosom held dear
From between heaven and earth disappear.