Hike Up Poems | Examples

The Hidden Nature Trail

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!

Lets Hike Up To Druid Arch

let’s hike up to the druid arch!
i am less than enthusiastic
let’s drive to it I suggest
grandma! you can’t drive there!\

we do a little encyclopedia research
druid arch is one hundred and fifty foot tall
impressive in the middle of nowhere

it is a cedar mesa sandstone reminder
of the Permian period
san dune deposited 245 million years ago

it is located at the head of elephant canyon
in canyonlands national park,
San Juan County, Utah

The hike there is eleven miles out and back
I get out my running shoes and my walker
hoping my granddaughter can push two hundred pounds in the arizona sand

Unexpected Mountain Visit

taco salad day
chili cheese burrito time
sour cream moment
digging in together

looking at the mountain view
the eagle flies just to relax
the sun's shift is about to end
we steal kisses in between delicious bites

lemon limeade lady
cream soda man
quiet conversations about old times
a moment of silence for my Mom and both of her Parents

tomorrow we look in shops
tomorrow we hike up to the peak
tomorrow we take picture of the most magnificent views
tomorrow we love each other even more

Jet Phobia

Oh, without this jet phobia, here's what I'd do:
Go traveling to Bimini, then on to Peru.

We'd hop on an aeroplane, and be there by noon.
We'd take in the sights, hike up Machu Picchu.
It sure would be fun if I could go with you…

The aeroplane's my enemy; I know this is true.
The pilot's a nightmare, and I don't trust the crew.

I'd travel the world; wish that dream could come true.
To hurtle through space leaves me nerves all unglued,
And I lose my resolve just like smoke through a flue.

Can't break away on holiday; this fear, I can't lose.
So I flip on the telly, take a journey, then snooze.

—————


To the tune of “Pavement Artist” (also “Chim Chim Cher-ee”)
From the musical “Mary Poppins”
Written on 03/13/2022

What If

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

Dane Land

We drove down the road. I saw such wondrous things. My eyes took in the steep sided grassy valley. In the bottom was a sparkling river. Sun reflected on the water which flowed over rocks. The small river had cut the valley. No more than a stream. 

It wound lazily, climbed steeply in places and was powerful in size. They said Vikings settled here. I see no evidence. The local village was set up by Danes. They named it, their legacy. Both vocal and in stone. 

Looking up from the river, up the valley side, I see a tree. A huge one by the road. The base must be twenty feet thick. And two hundred high. It's a Danish tree. Transported here as a seed by soldiers. A thousand years old. 

I've seen such trees in Denmark. In that tranquil little country, the highest places are trees. There are no hills or mountains there. And only one small two metre waterfall there. Nothing like this stunning one. The Danish invaders must have loved this land. 

I want us to stop and sleep under the tree. To hike up the river. Our time here is so brief. We have other sites to see. Will they be magnificent like these?





Picnic by Jimmy Boom Semtex

Iconic Beachy Head

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

Undisturbed

I push past the reasons and expectations
no comparisons or judging, unexpected gyrations
you do your best with all that is offered
while I pack my bags and head for the border

call or don't, write it all out or not
don't fill me with songs that you once forgot
sing from your heart or don't sing at all
dance with me once or fill my dance card

hike up the mountains for a grander view
once you get there, there is nothing that's new
drink from your bottle but it won't quench the thirst
the knowledge is power that bruises and hurts

you thought that you loved and all was so easy
but it leaves you numb and feeling queasy
the one that you want boards a plane for the coast
and there goes your heart with a lot of your ghosts

the one by your side that hangs on your word
is silently sleeping and lays undisturbed
your mind wanders to things left unsaid
laying in piles like leafs that are dead

Shodden Down-Trodden

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.

Nursery Rhyme Cold Cases

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!

Partnach Gorge the Most Beautiful Place

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.

Psych-Up

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)

The Grand Society

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.

Strong Enough

she’s strong enough to admit
she cannot do it alone &
when she speaks, you listen,
when she sings, you listen,
when she stares off in silence, you listen
(for the next wise word to come about),
not because you expect anything but what 
draws from times past that haven’t killed her yet
but which linger just below the surface &
emanate through her eyes
so ****ing beautiful that to stand in anything but
awe
would be the greatest lie to oneself---
what comes from the witness of such wisdom
is the possibility of not making the same mistakes &
what comes from the exchange 
of lending your ear
is the possibility that she will stay one more day
to walk on, speaking, singing,
telling the tales that only she knows
like breaths being exhaled
in a long long run or
a hike up a mountain
which seems like it has no peak.

Undisturbed

I push past the reasons and expectations
no comparisons or judging, unexpected gyrations
you do your best with all that is offered
while I pack my bags and head for the border

call or don't, write it all out or not
don't fill me with songs that you once forgot
sing from your heart or don't sing at all
dance with me once or fill my dance card

hike up the mountains for a grander view
once you get there, there is nothing that's new
drink from your bottle but it won't quench the thirst
for knowledge you possess but bruises and hurts

you thought that you loved and all was so easy
but it just leaves you numb and feeling queasy
the one that you want boards a plane for the coast
and there goes your heart with the one you want most
the one by your side that hangs on your word
is silently sleeping and lays undisturbed

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