Long Hiking Poems
Long Hiking Poems. Below are the most popular long Hiking by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hiking poems by poem length and keyword.
The morning woods were crackling with unknown sounds.
Then I heard a rustling sound in the leaves.
The sound of footsteps was getting louder,
It wasn’t a something, it was someone.
Suddenly a large man fell to the ground.
His leg was bleeding; all he said was “trap”.
Cool water from my canteen brought him back.
A small trap, it hadn’t broken the bone.
I stopped the bleeding, cleaned, and wrapped the wound,
then slowly moved him over by the fire.
I ask him, “do you feel like eating yet?”
“Yes, but more water first”, he muttered.
The food and water gave him energy,
Now it was time to ask what had happened.
“I was hiking and blazing a new trail.
I pitched my backpack at a bear and ran.
I got away while he explored my pack.
That’s when I got lost a few days ago.
I was getting weak from hunger and thirst,
when I stepped into the trap and passed out.
I managed to pry the trap open with sticks,
Then wandered in the night ‘till you found me.
It’s a miracle, I was guided here.
I wandered lost and hurt, but now I’m found.
LOSS BEGS THE QUESTIONS
How many nights have you cried yourself to sleep
How many days have you wondered why
Are your Hopes and dreams intact
Are your memories clouded
Does anger fill your soul
Does uncertainty stalk your steps
Does your heart ache
Is your heart broken
Is your play still filled with imaginative fun
Is your future bright
Do you wish things were different
Have you lost your faith
Do you have carefree moments
Have you camped
Do you still ride your bike
Have you grown in wisdom
Do you still love to read
Have you been hiking
Do you play with legos
Have you watched a good movie
Do you still love fall and like the snow
Have you slept well
Do you wish you could turn back time to before the storm
Have you Hope for your future
Do your friends bring you comfort
Have you moved on
Do you have peace
Can you forgive, can you forget
Can you overcome
Can you thrive
Will your resiliency carry you through
Will these questions ever be answered
Will our paths cross again
I stood with my head down as the coffin lowered,
grandma had lived a long life to 94 years:
she is the reason that I am a writer,
always encouraging me to pickup a pen,
("write it dear, write it for the world to read.")
So, I let my painful words drip as blood on white;
well, grandma my words still pour because of you !
But, I was feeling sad, lost and alone,
as I watched that coffin being lowered into the earth:
this was the last person who loved me totally,
and I was a balloon floating endlessly in the sky;
I had no anchor, no safe harbor, I was all alone,
with no mentor, no guiding light to shine the way,
my wings broken and falling out- fluttering away !
I have a sister that I never see and rarely do we speak,
two brothers who never call me;
all living in other cities- distance divides us,
but the ones who truly loved me are gone,
my sister, my dad, my mom, my husband;
all aunties and uncles and others on both sides gone,
and my baby boy- names engraved in stone,
I often travel that cemetery path to their eternal stone !
So, what remains when all love is forever buried,
well, after grandma left and I realized I was alone:
I went through a period of hiding away,
I had to do some deep heart searching,
the first thing was a need to get rid of some people,
people in my life who meant nothing to me;
who added nothing- it was time to clean my house !
And what remained were my best and true friends,
I love that feeling- then, I took inventory:
of what I had in this life that meant something to me,
well, poetry, it has always been part of me,
and hobbies like sketching, gardening- my home, my cat;
and my need for being part of nature and daily hiking !
I means a lot to go on hikes with my best friend Joan,
oh, we have journeyed far, seen so much, taken photos:
shared stories as we walked along the winding paths
she is a sister to me, knows me better than my own;
father taught me nature, mother- strength and courage,
grandma the gift of the pen, friends taught me love !
What else do I need !
The gaze he casts in my direction
Washes over me like a poisonous infection
Casting devious stares in my reflection
With his subtle rejection
My gaze bouncing across the billiard tables
Wondering if what I know about him are fables
Hiking my skirt, I grab my cue & aim
At pocketing this solid blue
One more time I switch my gaze to his location
I no longer found him in the billiard situation
He's nowhere to be found all around this room
He left tonight too soon
Billiards - I'd follow him on every full moon
Every time I open my mind - hoping he'll see -
Unfortunately, just gazing partners we'd ever be
At the billiard hall on full moons - across from me
I sighed & turned back my table's way
Then shot - & missed pocketing that solid blue
Shrugging my shoulders I said aloud:
"My fleeting inspiration is you."
I drank my last sip of Rum & Coke
Wiggled on my hoodie & got my purse ready to go
When off in the corner, I heard a voice say:
"I can't help but thinking I've seen you here before."
I spun around & in a dark-cornered chair
I saw man's silouette in darkness sitting over there
I knew he was the man I've been gazing to
"I-I'm Holly," stammering the words in his direction
& when I walked over there, it was just a reflection
Helena had always wanted to be a professional hiker more than a bit.
Her parents thought it dangerous, and tried to talk her out of it.
When she was eighteen, she got herself enormous hiking boots.
And proved she could master mountains, bears, tigers and bandicoots.
Her parents were astounded, to them she was just a baby.
She laughed at their consternation and joined the navy.
The navy got her ready to become a guide full time.
She was marching herself all over by age twenty-nine.
A crooked hiking stick, short blue cut-offs and a tiny bird.
Followed her up and down, as she ate strange goat curd.
Helena was an adventurer, an explorer, and a hiker too.
Wearing striped socks, carrying her bed roll, blue.
Her parents backed off when they saw her joy.
She sometimes passed by to yell “ahoy!”
On a pirate ship or a submarine.
She only lingered in their dream.
What makes the hiking up mountains more striking?
What makes the driving more fun than arriving?
What makes the ocean-ing worth the sun lotioning?
Gear!
Gear makes the biking much more to my liking,
Gear makes the camping way less spirit-damping,
Gear makes the gardening less callous-hardening,
Let's hear it for Gear!
Now softball-leaguing is way more intriguing,
Now boogie boarding is much more rewarding,
Now even jogging feels less like a flogging,
3 cheers for the Gear!
Titanium! Spandex! Aluminum! Latex!
Hi-tech! All-weather! Light as a feather!
No wonder I struggled for many a year -
I had not the wherewithal to buy the gear!
I was the one among us
Who had my fate sealed in Columbus
When my girlfriend announced she was with child
Not yet legal as a drinker
I was buying diapers for a stinker
While my friends were still sowing their oats wild
I pulled myself up by the ears
Graduated in three years
And started working in an office nine to five
With my peers still drunk and stupid
I was paying the price to Cupid
Doing what it took to just survive
Instead of hiking ‘round Europe
I was measuring formula syrup
Knowing there were things I could do never more
I kept pushing the baby stroller
Each year growing five years older
Having forgotten the dreams I had before
When I felt sorry for my life’s lot
I looked in the eyes of my little tot
And saw such trust and love upon her face
It was right then and there
That I finally became aware
My journey had led me to the right place
I no longer missed the life I had
Just being a Daddy made me glad
The sacrifices I had to make I easily did
And as the years passed us by
I thanked the gods up in the sky
For blessing me as a young man with a kid
May Fifth, 2019, A Personal Tribute
Known as Bubba and,
she hapt tubby renown
to savor livingsocial
to five grandchildren, (now grown),
my late mother fourteen
journeys around nearest star died,
nonetheless fought tooth, nail and bone
years presence christened and known
since November 13th, 1935,
though last few years transformed
her into a crone,
yes Harriet Harris chose cremation,
versus purchasing costly plot,
plus an inert headstone
departed realm of the living, her ashes
long since scattered,
linkedin, determined, foregone
within conclave among wind deities,
analogous to mourning doves doleful drone
whipped urning's contents, sans cyclone,
where remains got blown
dispersed along favorite hiking trail
adjacent to Revolutionary War Cider Mill
ghosts of militia long since flown
(situated within Arcola, Pennsylvania),
this sole son January 13 mcmlix,
whom ye birthed, forever alone
within my emotional wilderness
puberty, yours truly tried to postpone
belated gratuity maternal nursing skills
deployed to thwart anorexia,
yet these latter days getting older prone
to reckon eyes, how deathly frightened
ye and papa felt, where grim reaper
got called from me on his telephone
mother intervened ghastly stentorian tone
now, reminiscing tender loving care qualities,
proffered, while warmed by hearthstone,
though I always remained a stranger to thee
as this Norwegian bachelor
signs off from Lake Woebegone.
Hey, let’s go to the moon
Opportunity will be departing soon
Count is descending down
Orbit will be bound
Hear the roaring engines sound
Amazing adventure maybe found
Playing lunar,’ ring around’
Shooting off into the night’s air
Like a candlelight flare
Nothing can compare
Accepting this trusting dare
Lasting ten days
Going both ways
Checking neighboring planet’s backside
During the fly
Bye
Without a tourist guide
Bringing home souvenir data and results
Empowered using many energy volts
Time to take the darken path
And invade the heavenly wrath
Hiking a darken road
Being very bold
Artemus two mission easily sold
We have been told
Sun agreed wearing blinging gold
Shining bright
Heating our exploring knights
With illuminating light
Assisting them in this successful flight
I want a house that’s built from Pennsylvania fieldstone
On a farm that’s far away from all this noise.
I want a lane that’s lined with clutches of day lilies.
We’ll live on simple gifts and ordinary joys.
I want a trail where we’ll go hiking with our children,
Where they can learn the trees and follow nature’s way.
I want to sit around a fire and tell them stories
That make them laugh enough to scare their fears away.
I want a woman I can trust will always love me,
And who wants my lovin’ likewise in return.
I want the happily ever after happily here and now.
We’ll meet at rainbow’s end and spend the gold we’ve earned.