Summits Poems | Examples

Hearts and heights

She stands like Everest—jaw-dropping, distant, sublime— 
No timid plea will ever bridge that height. 
Yet the one who climbs with tender steps and earnest heart 
May trace her warmth through courage’s light. 

You stumble on your words—your voice betrays your desire, 
Each awkward phrase fuels your hope to try anew. 
Like a climber training on icy slopes, you rise again from slip and fall, 
For each earnest reach builds strength inside you. 

She may seem unattainable, aloof behind her lofty snow, 
Still, effort carves a pathway where affection slowly grows. 
One gentle gesture after another—steady, brave, sincere— 
Becomes the rope that binds your hearts in close repose. 
 
As the mountaineer knows: summits yield to those who persist, 
Each step endured, each setback met with grit. 
Likewise, a heart is won not by luck—but by steadfast, caring climb, 
For in love and heights alike, those who try never quit.

THE CITY OF SIRTE

She rose from the sand like a favoured child
Cradled by waves and draped with oil.
A city birthed from
A legacy carved to outlive time.

She wore power like a velvet robe
Gracefully hosting the continent’s hopes
Summits held with unifying dreams
From Egypt’s dunes to Sierra Leone’s seas.

But now she lies in shattered grace
Her golden roads frayed like worn-out thread.
Glass-built homes still raise their flags
Though windows are gone, and doors hang dead.

O Sirte, once a privilege town
Now carry the weight of broken stones
once a breath of fresh air
Now buried in ruins, silent and alone.

ANOTHER WAY

We've painted unity on beach sand
hung hope on mangrove branches
one wave & it all washed away.

We've built summits from dust and debt
made promises we can’t even explain
while huge walls still rise between us.

Speeches thunder & then fade to silence.
Hope passes hands like counterfeit.
Even our chiefs wear suits now.

Freedom feels outsourced again.
We've tried everything they named.
So what haven’t we named yet?

Maybe it’s time we stop asking them.
Maybe it’s time we speak in our own name.

Joshua Moore Colorado

Hail needles the skin.
Wind cracks the spine.
The mountain holds,
breath seizes on the tongue.
Snow knives the summits.

Cracked hands fumble dry stone,
paper-thin air slices,
bald eagles tilt in the blast.

Alpine skiers parched,
no more Earth Day banners.
Cherry Creek scrapes its bed.

Feces in  the bedpan,
chapped gloss smeared,
cocoa hair salted and smoked.

The Zephyr rattles east,
carrying the mountains backward—
Grand Central dissolves

Josh Moore Colorado

Hail nails the skin.
Wind stabs the spine,
the mountain stretches,
breath freezes the tongue,
Snow visible on the summits

High-altitude crumbling 
cracked hands claw at dry stone,
Paper thin air
sharp, jagged edges.
Bald Eagles circle overhead

Alpine sky, dry and broken—
no more Earth Day vegetation 
Cherry Creek scrapes the sand
She lifts the bedpan 
Chapped gloss superstar lips
Cocoa fur, stained by cigarette smoke
and the wind carries all,
The Zephyr rolls in 
Grand Central Station
Peaks in background

Whispering Still

Shepherds
of echo  
sirens
that call
Masters
of legend 
trapped
in the Fall

Moonlight
on ice fields
whispering
still
Voices
stay buried
destiny’s
will

Sunlight
awakens
mountains
that sigh
Hidden on
summits
new answers
there hide

But with 
 every Spring
a melting 
ensues
Flowing
life’s message
recalled
— and renewed

(Memories Of Absaroka: May, 1997)

Afterglow

When the existential magic disappears
And life holds nothing more than
my terrestrial tears and frivolous fears
When feeding my mind is no longer empirical 
Or essential, as human hunger suffices, 
when I no longer thirst, and eminence gives no rise,
and sullen shibumi canopies worn and torn
shade not the arid and hot desert, once the lofty
snow summits forthwith cloaked in thawing toxins
Or the ruby rose that does not scent me, reminiscently                                              
as its thorns prick crimson numbness
Tasteless is the blood from this warrior’s sword
And Lords with rattles of snakes poison less
Horns no longer adorn me, my ashes freed
I’ve heard of a hall of the slain,
where dead heroes reign
When our world gives way to the next
Where golden shields a palatial fortress
Take one more fallen warrioress,
to other realms, plush, pristine, called
Valhalla, an afterglow

Dear Music

Dear Music
You search for me
And stretch my soul
To explore mountain summits never imagined

You touch my wounds
And navigate the pain
To discover a sacred space of peace and healing

You kiss my fears
And nudge my secrets
To chase formidable currents down a noble river

You collect my bliss
And scatter my joy
To soar exposed without a need for concealment

Dear Music
You search for me
And you find me
You'll always find me

The Weight of Heights

They called him a child of the sky,
a storm-born spark, a rising sun
His steps were light, his hands were quick,
he climbed before he learned to run

The world below had sung his name,
its voices laced with awe and might
You’ll reach the peak they whispered low,
where all the stars align in light

He climbed through fire, through fractured bone,
through sleepless nights that burned like day
And at the top, at last, he swore
there’d be no farther left to stray

But summits blur, and clouds deceive,
each height unfolds another gate
Above him, figures loomed like wraiths,
their flesh decayed, yet climbed for weight.

And so he clings, too proud to fall,
too lost to chase another flight.
He wonders if the climb was worth
a life spent fearing a lesser height.

Dreamlike white mountains

Dreamlike, dreamlike white mountains!
Wrapped in shawls of pure white snow,
Hearing your name again and again, it’s etched in our minds,
Speaking of you repeatedly, you've been preserved in our hearts.
On snowy beds at night, I've poured out secrets to you,
Only to you I've confessed, only to you I've boasted.
Since then, a sweet dream has unsettled me,
That sweet dream led me, restless, straight to you!

Dreamlike, dreamlike white mountains!
Have my desires now been fulfilled?
Like a carpet spread wide, I fell at your feet,
Thinking I saw you, I cried in disbelief,
Sobbing deeply to myself, unable to come to you.
On your chest, true streams rumble in might,
And within my chest, poetic streams flow in delight,
Unable to bear the roaring streams, my ears fell quiet!

Dreamlike, dreamlike white mountains!
Stretching hands toward the sky,
Don’t think they’re just unyielding stones,
Carving valleys, even stones have shed tears,
From the tears of mountains, many springs have begun,
Even lofty clouds have trembled before towering peaks,
Flocking like sheep, unable to surpass your summits,
I dream to be like you—this is my greatest wish!

Three Sister Winds

Three sister winds,
Ephemeral progeny,
Spawned by the sun's relentless
But passionless heat,
And the earth's inexorable
Grinding rotation:
Sirocco dances across the vast emptiness of the Sahara;
Mistral roams over the rolling plains and briny lagoons
Of the French Camargue;
Santa Ana, mistress of the paradoxical
Lush aridity of Southern California.
Solitary nomads these three siblings,
Never meeting,
Rarely resting,
Always appearing unannounced,
Creating with cold dispassion,
Then leaving in their wake,
Their own ephemeral progeny:
Summits and trenches,
Hills and valleys,
Crags and craters.
Sad reminders of their brief visits
And lonely passing.
Continually shifting,
Eternally sifting,
Maternally treasuring,
Methodically measuring,
As if carefully counting each precious grain
In the sands of time.

Nature's Newborn: Re-written

I am a river, and my heart,
an ever-changing stream,
Ripples clean me part by part,
and so joy reigns in me supreme.

As a redwood firmly stands,
through seasons of change, so slow,
Hugging the Earth, with gnarled hands.
day by day, I too steadily grow.

As the sky awaits the gale,
to pass by, it gives no greeting.
Calmly, I face the challenging hail,
my fears quietly retreating.

As the mountains' summits rise,
on the land, old and still they are.
So do I, with time's guidance wise,
Teaching me the orbits of stars so far.

As the early spring, with lush grass,
adorns the surface of the bald lands.
I wear the tiara of love, pure as glass,
Carried in the universe's gentle hands.

Setting Goals beyond the Sky

Aiming high, you set your sights
On goals that seem to touch the lights
But if you fall, and failure comes
You'll land on heights that others call their summits

Your failure will be higher than their win
A testament to the scale you had in
Your dreams, though unfulfilled, declare
A courage that most others never share

So set your goals beyond the sky
And if you fail, don't ask why
For in the attempt, you'll find your pride
And heights that others envy, you'll reside.

Self discovery

I set out on a journey 
To explore the depths of me
To know who I am,
And what I'm supposed to do.
As I made my way through the valleys,
climbed the tallest summits,
I battled my personal demons,
I overcame my own fears as well.
I found strength in my courage 
And courage in my heart.
I discovered a new me.

Cold Or Hot

Sweetie pie, let's fly, let's fly
To somewhere far away
With summits, fjords, and snowy peaks
And cozy, warm chalets 

A wood stove that is roaring
The scent of burning wood
Velour robes of cotton
Two in one, so good 

I know it's cold, don't worry
We'll figure something out
I've some ideas I'll tell you
In private, not to tout 

Or let's find a hidden beach somewhere
Secluded and secure 
With crystal turquoise water
And pink sand on the shore

A beach umbrella made for two
A gingham blanket for
Eating, napping, reading on
And who knows? Maybe more

We'll spend the day together 
And wait until sunset
Then what comes next we'll talk about
The night holds fervor yet

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