Short Adventurers Poems
Short Adventurers Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Adventurers by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Adventurers by length and keyword.
East to West.
Pieces
of history
rise up,
welcoming
the wheels of many.
Dreams
of yesteryear
forge new memories
as adventurers
return
to Mother’s call.
5.1.2017
Let us pierce the loneliness of our craft
Let us form a Congregation of Poets
A brotherhood of fellow adventurers
Sounding Boards
~ Come, let us worship together
Thawing Out
Hooks
holding
icy gloves
frosted hats and
empty overcoats
hang by tightly shut doors
winters adventurers drift
searching for percolated warmth
beckoning aromas guiding them
gathering greetings, thawing each other.
Kickin
Rocks
And sticks
Is where
The water
Sticks
My brain
Alone
Feels
Like home
And then
Overcome
By the voices
In the silence
Dreamers and adventurers
We keep
Our town
Our love
Amongst each other
After all
This is home
Drive to Survive
Here’s to the explorers of minds
And the adventurers of souls
Finding new hope in pathways
Yet to be discovered
For that new hope is the divine
Intelligence to all our being
It is the drive to survive
That keeps us alive
While cars have monitered our lives
The bus still rumbles on
Bustling noisily
Smoke-shooting
Dust-swirling
For the non-car groups
For the poor
For the tuition-bound students
For the window-shopping teenagers
For the snack-sack adventurers
For a child's surprise
Sown is a season of glistening deceit,
A biting canvas signed by Jack,
Boreas rages over land and sea,
Burning flesh with northern winds,
Stripped arthritic sinews plead,
End this ice dome lock in,
White blinded adventurers,
Navigate the ramblings of a cold dictator,
Winter slaves man and all,
Until the fire storm returns,
Form:
Beware the tunnels dark and deep, where many nasty creatures sleep.
Beware the oceans vast and wide, where many nasty creatures hide.
Beware the high and open sky, where clear and cloudy dangers fly.
Beware the dangers of the land, hidden in forest, plain, and sand.
Beware adventurer, and heed our tales.
The one who forgets is the one who fails.
Unseen, this shown to advance
Our too world-shy romance.
Of each side's tree-folds hemmed in
As thick wrapped around by.
Midst what as aptly produced
For coos these hearts outfly!
Seated at which intervals
That world-fear into falls
The sheoke, through its whispers
Opes an ocean-view on.
Whilst in fragrant isle-dreams lost
Inhale them; vapour-hung.
Passionate adventurers rise above the April morning shower,
eagerly anticipating wonderlands of mythical folklore,
yearning for enchantment they wallow in the scent of every flower,
guardian angel radiance a master key with bounty at its core.
Date submitted : 11 January 2021
Contest : Podium Placing Promise(6)
Sponsor : Brian Strand
At Playa Rincon, in Dominican Republic’s sparkling cerulean waters
Among polished white pebbles, blue calcite and moonstone magic
sits larimar, the mermaid stone, the queen of the ocean stones.
Tailsman of adventurers and explorers, larimar empowers you
Enabling you to speak to your waiting, listening heart.
This is how she became and retains the title of queen
The Harlequins of the night
languish their last aura
Lilly eyed clowns await
commissioners bleed into tweed
Rivillers errantly play drums
Damsels failing in their appeal
Adventurers sent back
Running on empty
the night people slide in between
Those old sinners head for the valleys
backing their wasted years
No prayers are said, just the orbital of silence
I listen to Door County sing
to Death’s door, where waters meet
Green Bay, Lake Michigan and everything,
wonders of the north I greet.
I listen to fathers and their sons
the builders of ships in Sturgeon Bay,
the hulls they build so strong
and the joy when they are sent on their way.
The Maritime Museum tells the tales
of many brave young adventurers
who from the shores set sail.
A fog above the river is hovering
Like a shroud of gray the bier covers
Awaiting the glorious warming sun,
Bringing fog like rising steam by noon
Lifting the soul like a resurrection,
But now, a chill over New River Gorge
‘Tis dawn awaiting the rafters’ call
Adventurers will soon have a blast.
FIRST PRIZE WINNER
Brian Strand Contest
written January 21, 2022
Passionate adventurers rise above the April morning shower,
eagerly anticipating wonderlands of mythical folklore,
yearning for enchantment
they wallow in the scent of every flower,
guardian angel radiance a master key with bounty at its core,
navigator’s instinct moulded by a latent angel tower,
stellar minds on song as they mine the golden metal seams of yore
Poem created on April 22/2020
Without the sun there is no death
Without love there is no life
Without life there is no pain
Joy comes before sorrow
Or what use is it
Today breaks hearts for tomorrow
The future is just a pit
For yesterday and today
Only lovers get broken hearts
Only dreamers lose hope
Only adventurers are ever lost
Only fire brings smoke
Jesus needed a cross to pay the cost
I need a flask of words today
To drown the bleeding sore of the past.
I’ve never climbed a mountain
Or gone up in a balloon
And if I never scuba dive,
Well, that will be too soon.
I’ve never rafted rapids,
Para-sailed or water-skied
And as for jumping off a cliff,
I just don’t see the need.
I’ve not trekked in the arctic
Or safaried with a guide
And if I said I wasn’t scared
Of all these things, I lied.
I marvel at adventurers;
They’re made of stronger stuff.
To read about or watch their exploits
Is, to me, enough.
My grandfather held many scars
from Anzac Cove to Belgian mud
he never said a word to us
but went to work each day
patched soldiers worse than him.
My father faced towards the past
and kept his war to himself
until the weight of what he saw
made him another broken man
no one could reach him there.
We watch TV and want to know
the victories, campaigns and more
how men sailed out adventurers
to see the world at war's expense.
What turned them into shaking ghosts?