Poems about Journeys
Poems about Journeys covers traversing through life and travelling the globe.
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Poems about Journeys
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My journey through life
Has been very up and down;
Sometimes I've had a smile
Sometimes I've had a frown.
Do I know where I'm going
Not usually I'd say;
I learn more from where I've been
I look back every day.
Some people are really lucky
They have it all planned out;
They know they're career path and everything
Just what is all that about?
My journey is surprising
One after another it's true;
I don't think I'd like a path to follow
Because I wouldn't have met you.
Maggiemay
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Like all great travellers, I have seen more than I remember, and remember more than I have seen.
Benjamin Disraeli
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Home from Abroad
Far-fetched with tales of other worlds and ways,
My skin well-oiled with wines of the Levant,
I set my face into a filial smile
To greet the pale, domestic kiss of Kent.
But shall I never learn? That gawky girl,
Recalled so primly in my foreign thoughts,
Becomes again the green-haired queen of love
Whose wanton form dilates as it delights.
Her rolling tidal landscape floods the eye
And drowns Chianti in a dusky stream;
The flower-flecked grasses swim with simple horses,
The hedges choke with roses fat as cream.
So do I breathe the hayblown airs of home,
And watch the sea-green elms drip birds and shadows,
And as the twilight nets the plunging sun
My heart’s keel slides to rest among the meadows.
Laurie Lee.
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Journey of my mind still pending…journey
The heart is wound yet not healed up.
My aches were not filled with care
A tear touches another tear..
Mind still not woke up…
Love that left in the middle of journey…
My feelings and Emotions are in dilemma
Emotions has to live up or wipe off
Mind still restless…
Those care that tenderly love I deserve?
My life goes behind the curve
Journey of my love still pending…
Even I don’t know where I would be landing…
Again the fruit of love ripe off
Now mind behave diplomat
Feelings are confused…
Mind still abused…
Is Feelings and emotions again revive
Is it so?
Mind never takes rest…
Journey of my life still survive
Life is churning, the never ending journey
journey of my life still pending……………
neha.maheshwari
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Poems about Journeys
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The road just keeps on winding
Through the mountains on and on;
The men that laid this tarmac
Must have stayed for years alone.
The beauty makes my eyes hurt
The air so fresh and clean;
The peace and emptiness relaxing
From a film they've taken this special scene.
Nothing new under the sun
Is how the saying goes;
It's up to us to see as much
And look at all the pros.
Maggiemay
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Funeral Poem
His Journey's Just Begun
Don't think of him as gone away
his journey's just begun,
life holds so many facets
this earth is only one.
Just think of him as resting
from the sorrows and the tears
in a place of warmth and comfort
where there are no days and years.
Think how he must be wishing
that we could know today
how nothing but our sadness
can really pass away.
And think of him as living
in the hearts of those he touched...
for nothing loved is ever lost
and he was loved so much.
Ellen Brenneman
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A Plagued Journey
There is no warning rattle at the door
nor heavy feet to stomp the foyer boards.
Safe in the dark prison, I know that
light slides over
the fingered work of a toothless
woman in Pakistan.
Happy prints of
an invisible time are illumined.
My mouth agape
rejects the solid air and
lungs hold. The invader takes
direction and
seeps through the plaster walls.
It is at my chamber, entering
the keyhole, pushing
through the padding of the door.
I cannot scream. A bone
of fear clogs my throat.
It is upon me. It is
sunrise, with Hope
its arrogant rider.
My mind, formerly quiescent
in its snug encasement, is strained
to look upon their rapturous visages,
to let them enter even into me.
I am forced
outside myself to
mount the light and ride joined with Hope.
Through all the bright hours
I cling to expectation, until
darkness comes to reclaim me
as its own. Hope fades, day is gone
into its irredeemable place
and I am thrown back into the familiar
bonds of disconsolation.
Gloom crawls around
lapping lasciviously
between my toes, at my ankles,
and it sucks the strands of my
hair. It forgives my heady
fling with Hope. I am
joined again into its
greedy arms.
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