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Adventure is the very essence of life that ignites the fire within us to explore the unknown, push our limits and embark on a journey full of excitement and thrill.
By reading adventure poems, we can capture the essence of exploration and relive the moments that make our hearts race.
As Helen Keller said, “Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all.”
Let’s immerse yourselves into some of the best poems about adventure that stir the soul and awaken the spirit of wanderlust.
Here we go!
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Famous Poems about Adventure
Embark on a journey through the words of famous adventure poems that will take you to distant lands and unexplored territories.
1. The Road Not Taken
by Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
2. Adventure
by Hilda Conkling
I went slowly through the wood of shadows,
Thinking always I should meet some one:
There was no one.
I found a hollow
Sweet to rest in all night long:
I did not stay.
I came out beyond the trees
To the moaning sea.
Over the sea swam a cloud the outline of a ship:
What if that ship held my adventure
Under its sails?
Come quickly to me, come quickly,
I am waiting.
I am here on the sand;
Sail close!
I want to go over the waves . . .
The sand holds me back.
Oh adventure, if you belong to me,
Don’t blow away down the sky!
3. Columbus
by Helen L. Smith
A harbor in a sunny, southern city;
Ships at their anchor, riding in the lee;
A little lad, with steadfast eyes, and dreamy,
Who ever watched the waters lovingly.
A group of sailors, quaintly garbed and bearded;
Strange tales, that snared the fancy of the child:
Of far-off lands, strange beasts, and birds, and people,
Of storm and sea-fight, danger-filled and wild.
And ever in the boyish soul was ringing
The urging, surging challenge of the sea,
To dare,—as these men dared, its wrath and danger,
To learn,—as they, its charm and mystery.
Columbus, by the sunny, southern harbor,
You dreamed the dreams that manhood years made true;
Thank God for men—their deeds have crowned the ages—
Who once were little dreamy lads like you.
4. A Bittersweet Experience
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
I was in my backyard sunning, while lost in warm daydreams,
Enjoying red raspberries, while listening to the birds sing.
Lying on afternoon chaise, in the golden midst of hot July,
As I watched mauve butterflies, and lazy dragonflies go by.
Charmed by the bluest of skies, and the fragranced fresh air,
I felt that surely, there was not a better place anywhere!
The flowers were so lovely, and the grass was so deep green,
And the sun lit up all the daytime, with velvety soft sheen.
Behind me tall hedges, and a table with rapberries by my side,
And I gazed at marshmallow clouds, which had no place to hide.
As I watched the clouds, I enjoyed more of the ripe berries,
But I thought they tasted strange, a bit like sour cherries!
Glancing at my bowl, I found the poison berry, bittersweet,
Had been shaken from the hedge, and got mixed into my treat!
Then I saw the frenzied squirrel, that was scampering nearby,
Like the eclectic pretty flight, of the wandering butterfly.
I was starting to feel a bit dizzy, and soon it seemed to pass,
As I saw my neighbor walking toward me, upon the velvety grass.
She asked me if I’d seen her, for she had gone by in a hurry,
The lady with the purple hair, and the eyes filled with worry!
Ruby said she’d been gardening, when she saw her rushing by,
Blue tears falling from her eyes, a bit like rain from the sky.
She muttered that she’d lost it, that she couldn’t find her key,
And how could she go home again, when there wasn’t any copy?
Ruby said she must be an alien, for she didn’t look like us,
Like wildflowers gathering from everywhere is beauteous plus!
We agreed to look for her, for all souls in trouble need aid,
We found her at a nearby park, sitting dejectedly in the shade.
We asked her if she needed help, and the source of her trouble,
Then we both gave her hugs, as every heartbreak needs a cuddle!
She said she was from the next dimension, and she had lost a key,
A key that was her only way back, to the spatial lanes of beauty.
We learned Zelda was her name, and she was a hyperspatial traveler,
She’d seen sights you would not believe, in worlds of extra color!
With sunsets that painted skies, both to the east and to the west,
Simultaneously and with equal fervor, frenzied and unrepressed.
And flowery paths which after a time, curved back upon themselves,
Like the china which always returns, to its same familiar shelves!
She spoke of seeing the rear view, without ever turning around,
And often looking to starry skies, and seeing them on the ground!
Like the world turned to disarray, with everything in it shaken up,
Causing the greatest confusion, whenever outsiders visit to sup.
Zelda said there were ten dimensions, and she had seen every one,
And with time’s extensive arm, he played the part that he’d chosen!
Then came blue tears, which were gelled and faceted like crystals,
For she was missing her cozy home, with its adventuresome intervals.
We told Zelda not to worry, that we’d aid her in the key’s search,
As in our endless quest of answers, through scientific research!
We would retrace her movements that day, and we would find the key,
And she could once again return, to where rainbow skies are starry.
An hour into our search, I saw something glinting in sunlit grass,
And I hated to think of the tragedy, if I had not seen that flash.
With tears and farewell kisses, we sent Zelda on her long voyage,
And the sight of atmosphere parting, was quite a memorable visage!
Then I heard someone calling my name, and I opened my languid eyes,
And when I saw Ruby and the paramedics, I was extremely surprised.
They said I had ingested bittersweet, and I’d been hallucinating,
And I was rushed to the hospital, as often danger lies in waiting.
That was several years ago, but Zelda still seems to me very real,
For sometimes the things we dare to imagine, have the greater appeal!
And how far can we go in our minds, if we believe they are limitless?
We can do and see so many things, like when starry skies are wondrous!
5. Not Far And Not Close
by Albert Taylor
In all facets, its scent blows like the man’s coil,
Stop, you are weak!
Now these words make you freak.
From afar, more you walk, here you dwell.
Ravenous? Then swallow grumble and toil.
Top; above your imagination, so many are sick,
Despite this, beginning starts; end to seek?
None to lie, the sores as well.
This panting seems a marathon, what an adventure!
Imagine finishing it not knowing,
The cargoes still goes, none will venture,
Just a slopy, seems a hill unmoving,
To heads, all have gleefully mature,
Many are disparities that left filling.
6. Don’t Disturb The Hive
by Joseph Spence Sr
Run, jump, scream, duck, dodge and leap
Try to stay on your running feet
Honey in the hive
The bees are alive
Run, jump, scream, don’t fall and leap!
7. Mars in A Million Years
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
pink dawn on red mars
as far off sun glimmers gold
more probes are coming
someday red roses
when the greenery arrives
and with it fresh air
blue lakes and swimming
with the clouds, winds and the rain
red planet next door
phobos and deimos
glow throughout a martian night
when skies are dreaming
Beautiful Poems about Adventure
These poems for adventure will take you on a journey through lands unknown, filled with wonder, excitement, and bravery.
1. Butterfly Adventure
by Hilda Conkling
I saw a butterfly
Dark-brown and dusty
Like a plain traveler.
But when the sun shone on him
He wore sapphire-blue and opal
And winking half-moons of gold powder. . .
All the brown vanished away!
How could I know
He was iridescent?
Nature seems to hide
When you look at her with sleepy eyes,
But with eyes wide-open in the open light
You see her shine to all the colors
Of the sun.
2. Dreams And Ruby Slippers
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
Down the yellow brick road, in a place not very far,
In a land I heard of, you find out who you truly are.
Just follow the magical road, of friendship and love,
For adventure awaits, and things you are dreaming of!
The sparkling ruby slippers, will soon take you there,
To a fabled Emerald City, over the rainbow somewhere.
No room for evil doubting, but faith is what you need;
And ruby slippers on a path of blooms, of hope’s seed!
3. Song of The Open Road
by Walt Whitman
Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me leading me wherever I choose.
Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune,
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,
Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms,
Strong and content I travel the open road.
4. Life
by Henry Van Dyke
Let me but live my life from year to year,
With forward face and unreluctant soul;
Not hurrying to, nor turning from the goal;
Not mourning for the things that disappear
In the dim past, nor holding back in fear
From what the future veils; but with a whole
And happy heart, that pays its toll
To Youth and Age, and travels on with cheer.
So let the way wind up the hill or down,
O’er rough or smooth, the journey will be joy:
Still seeking what I sought when but a boy,
New friendship, high adventure, and a crown,
My heart will keep the courage of the quest,
And hope the road’s last turn will be the best.
5. Seven Up
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
Gold dawn came early
Seven bluebirds on rouge skies
rising up in song
Discovery awaited
on lavender streets up high
Cool breezes were caught
on a 7am flight
Green trees fell away
Sunup had soon turned orange
in the season of the sun
6. The Under Water Solution
by Duke Beaufort
The under water solution
When the money is mostly spent
Find the lowest terms for the rent
A car on a train
Protects well from the rain
But better yet let’s get a tent
7. Vienna
by Rachel G
how could we know
we’d get on so
that morning in Vienna
a cocktail bar
and shining stars
we shared a cab
now here we are
morning shade
October sun
we caught the train
and it was done
Budapest to Birmingham
New Orleans and Mexico
how could I know
I’d love you so
that morning in Vienna
Deep Poems about Adventure
These deep poems about adventure capture the essence of exploring the unknown. Let these words take you on a journey to the unknown, where the thrill of adventure awaits.
1. A Better Life
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
on the other shore
the waters are crystal green
unlike these so blue
sun sparkles rubies
and mauve birds sing on the wing
into plum tinged nights
on the other side
dark shadows dance in sunshine
through the blue green days
rainbows touch the ground
and butterflies trail fragrance
in the land of dreams
2. A Journey
by Nikki Giovanni
It’s a journey . . . that I propose . . . I am not the guide . . . nor technical assistant . . . I will be your fellow passenger . . .
Though the rail has been ridden . . . winter clouds cover . . . autumn’s exuberant quilt . . . we must provide our own guide-posts . . .
I have heard . . . from previous visitors . . . the road washes out sometimes . . . and passengers are compelled . . . to continue groping . . . or turn back . . . I am not afraid . . .
I am not afraid . . . of rough spots . . . or lonely times . . . I don’t fear . . . the success of this endeavor . . . I am Ra . . . in a space . . . not to be discovered . . . but invented . . .
I promise you nothing . . . I accept your promise . . . of the same we are simply riding . . . a wave . . . that may carry . . . or crash . . .
It’s a journey . . . and I want . . . to go . . .
3. The Pioneers
by Hannah Flagg Gould
Thy waves, proud OHIO, in majesty roll
Through banks with rich verdure and flowers filly dressed,
Like the strong tide of mind—like the bright flow of soul,
That heaves nobly on to the fair, blooming WEST.
Thy music is set to the motion of years,
Like thee, bearing down to a fathomless flood;
But ours, to the march of the bold PIONEERS,
Who purchased thy borders with peril and blood.
They fearless went forth where the red heathen foe
With tomahawk raised, as in ambush he lay,
And poison-tipped arrows to speed from his bow,
Concealed like a serpent, infested the way.
They saw the tall flame, when the council-fire glared
Along the deep gloom through the wilderness spread.
They heard the loud whoop, when the knife was prepared
Its trophy to cleave from the white victim’s head!
The apple tree then, ‘mid the trees of the wood,
They reared among savages human and brute,
And felled the dark forest around it that stood,
To let in the sun-beams, and ripen the fruit.
Their footsteps are traced by the lily and vine;
Where they lopped the boughs, stands the full-headed sheaf,
And here, from the pillow, the oil and the wine,
The weary find rest, and the wounded, relief.
Where all was in nature’s first wildness and night,
Till they ventured forth, an invincible band,
The SUN of eternity pours down his light—
The beauty of holiness spreads o’er the land!
Roll on, proud OHIO! and long as the voice,
That sounds from thy waters posterity hears,
‘T will come in bold numbers to hearts that rejoice,
In chorus responding, ‘The brave PIONEERS!’
4. My People
by Langston Hughes
The night is beautiful,
So the faces of my people.
The stars are beautiful,
So the eyes of my people.
Beautiful, also, is the sun.
Beautiful, also, are the souls of my people.
5. Someday My Soul Shall Fly
by L. Milton Hankins
Someday my soul shall fly to regions beyond
The confines of this earth’s miserable façade
I’ll know what until now has not yet dawned,
The first time I’ll be touching the face of God.
Behind the mysteries of the universe venture
Opening those vistas of incredible magnitude,
In what shall be my most elaborate adventure
Unhindered by this broken body’s low latitude.
For I shall have escaped the restrictions of life
Temporal and transitory, for ethereal reality,
Someday, somewhere, where there’s no strife
I shall be utterly free of all restricting lethality,
Roaming unrestricted through Eden’s loosestrife
Once again together with my beautiful wife.
6. Ocean
by Debbie Duncan
I’m an ocean
deep and wide
you never know
what’s going to
come inside
Short Poems about Adventure
Let your imagination run wild, and join us on a poetic adventure. Check out these short poems about adventure.
1. Against The Shore
by Atticus
She lapped
against the shore,
restless like
the sea,
ready
for any adventure,
that blew along her way.
2. Dreams
by Langston Hughes
Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.
3. And The Moon And The Stars And The World
by Charles Bukowski
Long walks at night–
that’s what good for the soul:
peeking into windows
watching tired housewives
trying to fight off
their beer-maddened husbands.
4. Passing Time
by Maya Angelou
Your skin like dawn
Mine like musk
One paints the beginning
of a certain end.
The other, the end of a
sure beginning.
5. A Question
by Robert Frost
A voice said, Look me in the stars
And tell me truly, men of earth,
If all the soul-and-body scars
Were not too much to pay for birth.
6. Hot And Cold
by Roald Dahl
A woman who my mother knows
Came in and took off all her clothes.
Said I, not being very old,
‘By golly gosh, you must be cold! ‘
‘No, no! ‘ she cried. ‘Indeed I’m not!
I’m feeling devilishly hot! ‘by Roald Dahl
7. On The World
by Francis Quarles
The world’s an inn; and I her guest.
I eat; I drink; I take my rest.
My hostess, nature, does deny me
Nothing, wherewith she can supply me;
Where, having stayed a while, I pay
Her lavish bills, and go my way.
8. A Day at A Zoo
by Andy Grassia
We went to the zoo
We met this tiger named sue
She was roaring at this man’s
arm
She clearly meant no harm
Maybe next time he should
cover his tiger tattoo
Long Poems about Adventure
Adventure awaits in these long poems filled with daring expeditions, thrilling escapades, and unexpected twists and turns.
1. Pioneers! O Pioneers!
by Walt Whitman
Come, my tan-faced children,
Follow well in order, get your weapons ready;
Have you your pistols? have you your sharp edged axes?
Pioneers! O pioneers!
For we cannot tarry here,
We must march my darlings, we must bear the brunt of danger,
We, the youthful sinewy races, all the rest on us depend,
Pioneers! O pioneers!
O you youths, western youths,
So impatient, full of action, full of manly pride and friendship,
Plain I see you, western youths, see you tramping with the foremost,
Pioneers! O pioneers!
Have the elder races halted?
Do they droop and end their lesson, wearied, over there beyond the seas?
We take up the task eternal, and the burden, and the lesson,
Pioneers! O pioneers!
All the past we leave behind;
We debouch upon a newer, mightier world, varied world,
Fresh and strong the world we seize, world of labor and the march,
Pioneers! O pioneers!
We detachments steady throwing,
Down the edges, through the passes, up the mountains steep,
Conquering, holding, daring, venturing, as we go, the unknown ways,
Pioneers! O pioneers!
We primeval forests felling,
We the rivers stemming, vexing we, and piercing deep the mines within;
We the surface broad surveying, we the virgin soil upheaving,
Pioneers! O pioneers!
Colorado men are we,
From the peaks gigantic, from the great sierras and the high plateaus,
From the mine and from the gully, from the hunting trail we come,
Pioneers! O pioneers!
From Nebraska, from Arkansas,
Central inland race are we, from Missouri, with the continental blood intervein’d;
All the hands of comrades clasping, all the Southern, all the Northern,
Pioneers! O pioneers!
O resistless, restless race!
O beloved race in all! O my breast aches with tender love for all!
O I mourn and yet exult—I am rapt with love for all,
Pioneers! O pioneers!
Raise the mighty mother mistress,
Waving high the delicate mistress, over all the starry mistress, (bend your heads all,)
Raise the fang’d and warlike mistress, stern, impassive, weapon’d mistress,
Pioneers! O pioneers!
See, my children, resolute children,
By those swarms upon our rear, we must never yield or falter,
Ages back in ghostly millions, frowning there behind us urging,
Pioneers! O pioneers!
On and on, the compact ranks,
With accessions ever waiting, with the places of the dead quickly fill’d,
Through the battle, through defeat, moving yet and never stopping,
Pioneers! O pioneers!
O to die advancing on!
Are there some of us to droop and die? has the hour come?
Then upon the march we fittest die, soon and sure the gap is fill’d,
Pioneers! O pioneers!
All the pulses of the world,
Falling in, they beat for us, with the western movement beat;
Holding single or together, steady moving, to the front, all for us,
Pioneers! O pioneers!
Life’s involv’d and varied pageants,
All the forms and shows, all the workmen at their work,
All the seamen and the landsmen, all the masters with their slaves,
Pioneers! O pioneers!
All the hapless silent lovers,
All the prisoners in the prisons, all the righteous and the wicked,
All the joyous, all the sorrowing, all the living, all the dying,
Pioneers! O pioneers!
I too with my soul and body,
We, a curious trio, picking, wandering on our way,
Through these shores, amid the shadows, with the apparitions pressing,
Pioneers! O pioneers!
Lo! the darting bowling orb!
Lo! the brother orbs around! all the clustering suns and planets,
All the dazzling days, all the mystic nights with dreams,
Pioneers! O pioneers!
These are of us, they are with us,
All for primal needed work, while the followers there in embryo wait behind,
We to-day’s procession heading, we the route for travel clearing,
Pioneers! O pioneers!
O you daughters of the west!
O you young and elder daughters! O you mothers and you wives!
Never must you be divided, in our ranks you move united,
Pioneers! O pioneers!
Minstrels latent on the prairies!
(Shrouded bards of other lands! you may sleep—you have done your work;)
Soon I hear you coming warbling, soon you rise and tramp amid us,
Pioneers! O pioneers!
Not for delectations sweet;
Not the cushion and the slipper, not the peaceful and the studious;
Not the riches safe and palling, not for us the tame enjoyment,
Pioneers! O pioneers!
Do the feasters gluttonous feast?
Do the corpulent sleepers sleep? have they lock’d and bolted doors?
Still be ours the diet hard, and the blanket on the ground,
Pioneers! O pioneers!
Has the night descended?
Was the road of late so toilsome? did we stop discouraged, nodding on our way?
Yet a passing hour I yield you, in your tracks to pause oblivious,
Pioneers! O pioneers!
Till with sound of trumpet,
Far, far off the day-break call—hark! how loud and clear I hear it wind;
Swift! to the head of the army!—swift! spring to your places,
Pioneers! O pioneers.
2. This Is No Fable
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
I was relaxing in my sunroom, one very peaceful afternoon,
Enjoying the fables of Aesop, and all the flowers abloom.
The view from the many windows, was gold sunshiny delight,
With blossoms and rich greenery, and many birds in flight.
Every now and then I chuckled, at comical characters I met,
And the morals that they learned, and would not soon forget.
I whiled away the afternoon, becoming lost in a daydream,
Until I realized my garden, was a place I had never been!
Gone were lawn and blooms, and in their place was a meadow,
Teeming with wildflowers, maroon, orange, blue and yellow.
And also different birds, which I never before had seen,
With deep forest in the distance, by far much more green!
I was most curious and eager, this charming land to explore,
So without any hesitation, I wandered out of the back door.
Then I saw that my house, was changed into a very small hut,
With a grass thatched roof, and a window that was now shut.
There was a path near the house, so I gaily set out walking;
But there wasn’t much to be seen, except a lovely morning.
My city had vanished, though I saw other huts much like mine!
So I admired lavishly hued birds, the color of bordeaux wine.
After a short time walking, I saw a fox beneath a shady tree,
That kept leaping into the air, and acting quite peculiarly.
He finally gave it up and left, while disgustedly muttering.
“The grapes were most probably sour,” he came by me spluttering.
Like the sunset colors the sky, only to then call it a night,
Or blooms that are gone forever, after giving pure delight!
I was stunned and amazed, that the animals here could speak;
And curiosity took me to the tree, to take just a small peek.
I saw a grapevine covered tree, with juicy grapes way up high,
My mouth had begun to water, when I saw a stout stick nearby.
I grabbed that fallen limb, and knocked the grapes right down;
And I began eating them, before they had touched the ground.
And I learned an important lesson, most anyone can understand,
If you just keep on trying, no goal is too lofty or grand!
The morning was still young, and I was enjoying my stroll,
When I met a fox, a tortoise and a hare, near a grassy knoll.
The hare was teasing the tortoise, because he was very slow,
The tortoise then replied, he always reached his goal, even so.
That was when they all noticed me, and they said how do you do?
And greeting them all, I proposed a race to resolve the issue.
With Fox as their judge, the two coursed as fast as they could,
Hare went right out of sight, and Tortoise wasn’t doing so good.
Like the milky shooting star, tends to outrun all the others,
And then quickly disappears, once it’s shown its true colors!
But tortoise won the race, because Hare laid down on the job,
And when we woke Hare up, I thought for a moment he might sob.
Trying to cheer him up, I challenged a race between us three,
And the fox said that he would judge, for he was sort of lazy.
This time the hare stayed awake, to my very extreme displeasure.
I, however beat Tortoise, while Hare beat both of us together.
And I learned a lifelong lesson, it somewhat pains me to know.
That the race isn’t always given to the swift, nor to the slow!
Further on I saw a sunlit glade, and a sly fox admiring a crow,
She was perched high up in a tree, as fox gazed on reverently.
Crow possessed a tempting morsel, as fox excited her vanities,
When fox begged one silken warble, Crow cawed and lost the cheese.
Though Crow was quite sad, the fox still gobbled with greed.
Then he turned his flattery on me, with an astonishing speed!
I was eating some of the grapes, that I had captured earlier,
And perhaps my mild thirst, made them taste all the sweeter.
“How lovely you look dear,” Fox enthused with his fanged smile,
“Let me hold your grapes for you, so that you can rest awhile.”
I told shifty Fox no thank you, in a gracious and charming voice,
And he crept dejectedly back to the wood, since he had no choice.
From this I learned a lesson, that I still teach to the youth:
Though there may be truth in flattery, flattery is not the truth!
As shadows were growing long, I left that sad corner of the wood,
And suddenly missing home, I backtracked to find it if I could.
Like the tireless hands of a clock, retraces the path of moments,
Or the return of endless seasons, once they find time is potent!
I encountered no more animals, they seemed somehow wary of me,
And when I reached my charming hut, sunset skies had colors many.
As soon as I entered the airy sunroom, all was as it was before,
And when I turned around, only lawn and garden was outside my door.
The enchanted fabled forest, never returned to my neighborhood again,
But the experience has made me wiser, for memory is a good friend!
And I had extreme good fortune, to somehow be able to eavesdrop,
Deep within an ancient forest, upon the charming tales of Aesop!
3. Die Slowly
by Martha Medeiros
He who becomes the slave of habit,
who follows the same routes every day,
who never changes pace,
who does not risk and change the color of his clothes,
who does not speak and does not experience,
dies slowly.
He or she who shuns passion,
who prefers black on white,
dotting ones i’s rather than a bundle of emotions, the kind that make your eyes glimmer,
that turn a yawn into a smile,
that make the heart pound in the face of mistakes and feelings,
dies slowly.
He or she who does not turn things topsy-turvy,
who is unhappy at work,
who does not risk certainty for uncertainty,
to thus follow a dream,
those who do not forego sound advice at least once in their lives,
die slowly.
He who does not travel, who does not read,
who does not listen to music,
who does not find grace in himself,
she who does not find grace in herself,
dies slowly.
He who slowly destroys his own self-esteem,
who does not allow himself to be helped,
who spends days on end complaining about his own bad luck, about the rain that never stops,
dies slowly.
He or she who abandons a project before starting it, who fails to ask questions on subjects he doesn’t know, he or she who doesn’t reply when they are asked something they do know,
dies slowly.
Let’s try and avoid death in small doses,
reminding oneself that being alive requires an effort far greater than the simple fact of breathing.
Only a burning patience will lead
to the attainment of a splendid happiness.
4. Questions of Travel
by Elizabeth Bishop
There are too many waterfalls here; the crowded streams
hurry too rapidly down to the sea,
and the pressure of so many clouds on the mountaintops
makes them spill over the sides in soft slow-motion,
turning to waterfalls under our very eyes.
– For if those streaks, those mile-long, shiny, tearstains,
aren’t waterfalls yet,
in a quick age or so, as ages go here,
they probably will be.
But if the streams and clouds keep travelling, travelling,
the mountains look like the hulls of capsized ships,
slime-hung and barnacled.
Think of the long trip home.
Should we have stayed at home and thought of here?
Where should we be today?
Is it right to be watching strangers in a play
in this strangest of theatres?
What childishness is it that while there’s a breath of life
in our bodies, we are determined to rush
to see the sun the other way around?
The tiniest green hummingbird in the world?
To stare at some inexplicable old stonework,
inexplicable and impenetrable,
at any view,
instantly seen and always, always delightful?
Oh, must we dream our dreams
and have them, too?
And have we room
for one more folded sunset, still quite warm?
But surely it would have been a pity
not to have seen the trees along this road,
really exaggerated in their beauty,
not to have seen them gesturing
like noble pantomimists, robed in pink.
– Not to have had to stop for gas and heard
the sad, two-noted, wooden tune
of disparate wooden clogs
carelessly clacking over
a grease-stained filling-station floor.
(In another country the clogs would all be tested.
Each pair there would have identical pitch.)
– A pity not to have heard
the other, less primitive music of the fat brown bird
who sings above the broken gasoline pump
in a bamboo church of Jesuit baroque:
three towers, five silver crosses.
– Yes, a pity not to have pondered,
blurr’dly and inconclusively,
on what connection can exist for centuries
between the crudest wooden footwear
and, careful and finicky,
the whittled fantasies of wooden cages
– Never to have studied history in
the weak calligraphy of songbirds’ cages.
– And never to have had to listen to rain
so much like politicians’ speeches:
two hours of unrelenting oratory
and then a sudden golden silence
in which the traveller takes a notebook, writes:
‘Is it lack of imagination that makes us come
to imagined places, not just stay at home?
Or could Pascal have been not entirely right
about just sitting quietly in one’s room?
Continent, city, country, society:
the choice is never wide and never free.
And here, or there… No. Should we have stayed at home,
wherever that may be? ‘
5. A Parallel Earth
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
It was the weekend, and I was sleeping late that day,
Alone with the morning, while savoring marvels of May.
As I drowsed luxuriantly, at the outskirts of dreams,
I heard a strange sound, while soaking in gay sunbeams!
The sound came from my closet, quite across the room,
And drifted over mysteriously, like scent of perfume.
I moved toward the sound, so to discover its source,
And afterwards, return to weekend pleasures, of course!
I opened the closet door, and peered curiously inside,
And then an errant wormhole, sucked me in for the ride!
I was falling in a circular tunnel, of no sight or sound,
And also colorless, with only gray blur, all around!
Like the silence, after a booming thunder rends the sky,
Or sitting in placid boredom, watching lazy days go by.
The wormhole finally ejected me, at its opposite end,
But, I was confused to be back in my bedroom once again!
I decided to go out for breakfast, and for a walk after,
And the thought of golden sun, filled me with rapture.
I went through the doorway, but I soon stopped, midstep,
My town was now so very beautiful, that I could have wept!
The sun seemed to beam smiles, lending all a vibrant sheen,
And the foliage was the greenest green, I have ever seen!
The flowers blazed their late morning magic, everywhere,
And smiling women walked by, rare blooms in their hair.
The men whistled while mowing, their deep emerald lawns,
And children gamboled, laughing, like gay little fawns.
There were many more squirrels, birds and rabbits about,
Like the colorful proliferation, at winter’s turnabout!
I finally reached the diner, and when I opened the menu,
I noticed many items were different, and some were new!
The entire selection was vegan, no meat, milk, or cheeses,
But, their food was as pleasing as warm, fragrant breezes!
At what time had these most radical, new changes occurred,
Not only to my diner, but to bush, flower, tree and bird?
I grabbed a newspaper to read, after a stroll to the park;
It was now nearing noontime, and the shadows were stark!
Birds sang the sweetest songs, which I could not recall,
Like the moon has no memory of golden dawn, at nightfall.
People were friendlier, and they greeted me when we’d meet,
It seemed so familiar, but I couldn’t remember this street!
The park was a nature delight, of many an old and new sight,
With more fountains and flowers, surely lovelier by night!
I sat on a park bench, opening the paper, with crossed legs,
But reading the newspaper’s name, I stared at the flower beds!
“Smiley Times,” the front page declared, with emoticon beside.
I considered going home, to get out of bed on the right side!
I saw stories that were familiar, but not a whisper of war,
As if time had somehow now forgotten, that prolonged memoir.
And as I continued reading, a large picture caught my interest.
Two encountering men, were embracing, while laughing with zest.
It was the Leader of North Korea, with our president, no less.
And as I read the caption below, I perceived earth’s new address!
“Best Buddies!” The caption said, and I saw stranger stories still.
And, I arose and started walking home, after I’d had my fill.
The shadows were growing longer, and the sun was to the west,
But, a light on the eastern horizon, put my sanity to the test!
As I watched the sunrise of afternoon, it made a double sheen,
And I thought, it was small wonder, all was so vibrantly green!
Upon feeling the second, warm heat wave, involuntarily I smiled,
Brimming with blithesome thoughts, as my senses were beguiled.
I noticed a cat and a bluebird, frolicking gaily on the grass,
In this violence free world, that surely nothing could surpass!
My neighbor came outdoors and waved, walking over for a chat,
And we had animated conversation, about weather, this and that.
The houses on my street, all seemed marvelously different,
As if infused with a mysterious magic, that was secretly spent!
I remained for one glorious week, in this strange world of magic,
Where even a schoolyard tussle, would’ve been considered tragic.
Like a moonrise of the morning, with nowhere an inkling of night,
Or the game that’s interrupted, when the ball goes out of sight!
One day, I was in my closet, and searching for my new outfit,
When the wormhole suddenly reappeared, spitting my double from it!
One heartbeat of astonishment and joy, was all that we shared,
For, the wormhole captured me again, and I departed elsewhere.
Then I found myself in my room again, on the same day I’d left,
I was actually glad to know, that time hadn’t committed a theft.
My friends laughed at me, when I told them about my adventure,
And they said that a career in comedy, should be my next venture.
They had the unmitigated gall, to imply I was being untruthful,
And all my efforts to retell my amazing tale, were unfruitful.
Now sometimes, they’ll open a door, stoop down, and peer inside,
As if to discover where my mystic wormhole, has gone to hide.
Then dissolve in helpless giggles, while shaking in their mirth,
Like the sun that shines in gaiety, at the peaceful, dawn rebirth!
I would have brought my newspaper, only I was reclaimed so suddenly,
But, even if I had, I doubt if they ever would have believed me.
But, at least, I know the verity of what these glad eyes have seen,
And I am happy with the certainty, of what the world could’ve been!
A beautiful world, deeply green, with the abundance of peaceful life,
And two suns, smiling on all of creation, with its minimum of strife!
Poems about Adventure That Rhyme
Prepare yourself to embark on a thrilling expedition through our assortment of rhyming poems of adventure. These poems will take you on a thrilling ride, from daring escapades to thrilling expeditions.
1. Birch And Paddle
by Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts
Friend, those delights of ours
Under the sun and showers,—
Athrough the noonday blue
Sliding our light canoe,
Or floating, hushed, at eve,
When the dim pine-tops grieve!
What tonic days were they
Where shy streams dart and play,—
Where rivers brown and strong
As caribou bound along,
Break into angry parle
Where wildcat rapids snarl,
Subside, and like a snake
Wind to the quiet lake!
We’ve paddled furtively,
Where giant boughs hide the sky,—
Have stolen, and held our breath,
Thro’ coverts still as death,—
Have left with wing unstirred
The brooding phoebe-bird,
And hardly caused a care
In the water-spider’s lair.
For love of his clear pipe
We’ve flushed the zigzag snipe,—
Have chased in wilful mood
The wood-duck’s flapping brood,—
Have spied the antlered moose
Cropping the young green spruce,
And watched him till betrayed
By the kingfisher’s sharp tirade.
Quitting the bodeful shades
We’ve run thro’ sunnier glades,
And dropping craft and heed
Have bid our paddles speed.
Where the mad rapids chafe
We’ve shouted, steering safe,—
With sinew tense, nerve keen,
Shot thro’ the roar, and seen,
With spirit wild as theirs,
The white waves leap-like hares.
And then, with souls grown clear
In that sweet atmosphere,
With influences serene
Our blood and brain washed clean,
We’ve idled down the breast
Of broadening tides at rest,
And marked the winds, the birds,
The bees, the far-off herds,
Into a drowsy tune
Transmute the afternoon.
So, Friend, with ears and eyes
Which shy divinities
Have opened with their kiss,
We need no balm but this,—
A little space for dreams
On care-unsullied streams,—
‘Mid task and toil, a space
To dream on Nature’s face!
2. Routes New
by Christuraj Alex
My shoes long worn out now got torn,
Within it rough, rude pebbles meet;
Pricking, poking in some stern tone,
Knit-bit of my venturing feet…
Needle-like long pin-pointed thorns,
Pierced my now-ripped outfit;
Prodding little nerves, muscles, bones,
Thus tempting to stop my pursuit…
Horrifying rough rocky grills,
Frightening densely dim forests;
Mystery-like messy mole-hills,
Terrifying combs of hornets…
Sitting there leisurely, surely,
I tried removing one by one;
I could not do so much, purely,
It needed works perfectly done…
Thus, when I completed my course,
My friends, neighbors, even others;
Ignored me like some evil force,
Or like no one’s dog, none bothers…
Why such futile works he digs up?
Is his life not well endowed too?
When he needs to humbly give up,
Why does he cling on to whims new?
Let the world possess its outlook,
Let it move in its trodden routes;
Its grim conducts I do unhook,
I define the routes of my roots…
3. Adventurers
by Madison Cawein
Seemingly over the hill-tops,
Possibly under the hills,
A tireless wing that never drops,
And a song that never stills.
Epics heard on the stars’ lips?
Lyrics read in the dew?—
To sing the song at our finger-tips,
And live the world anew!
Cavaliers of the Cortés kind,
Bold and stern and strong,—
And, oh, for a fine and muscular mind
To sing a new-world’s song!
Sailing seas of the silver morn,
Winds of the balm and spice,
To put the old-world art to scorn
At the price of any price!
Danger, death, but the hope high!
God’s, if the propose fail!
Into the deeds of a vaster sky
Sailing a dauntless sail.
4. The Poem of Adventure
by George Krokos
Deep inside the mountain
the adventures hide themselves.
They are of all forms and shapes.
They all have an excellent ending,
because those that live their lives in adventure
see the world in an extraordinary special way.
To attract the adventures into the patterns of habit
you only need to close your eyes
and ask them to embrace you.
You can also imagine that you are transparent
and feel the wind stream through you
instead of going against you.
Or imagine there are tiny little wings on your back
and every time you take a new step you bounce a bit.
Maybe life itself is one big adventure
if only you have the correct shades on.
Back in the days of old
when knights were bold
who with a sword or lance
in armour sought romance.
It was the age of chivalry
long ago in man’s history
when to fight for a righteous cause
one did gain considerable applause.
It was mainly for show, love and glory
they deemed themselves being worthy
to capture the heart of some fair maiden
which was the most desired prize laden.
Oh, they would strike heavy blows
on all of their opponents and foes
in a one to one combat defying death
as crowds watched with abated breath.
Yes, it was far back in those days of yore
that courage and strength came to the fore
where there was this life and death struggle;
such issues at hand the knights would juggle.
And in fighting for their country, faith and king
noble impressions on people’s minds would ring
that even through the ages are held in high esteem
those knights in shinning armour do now all seem.
There are many legends based on their heroic exploits
a legacy of tales which have been told with much adroit
highlighting aspects of human wisdom related to virtue and vice
and the lessons to be learnt are those of goodness and sacrifice.
History usually repeats itself time and again
as it often happens a situation comes when
we’re asked to do something for a just cause
and acting with chivalry we shouldn’t pause.
5. Fierce Adventures
by Annette Wynne
Between the bookcase and the wall
‘Is raised a castle, gray and tall,
The desk top is a wooden moat,
The rocking chair’s a pirate boat,—
My little boy, turned six to-day,
Has fierce adventures in his play.
My little maid goes venturing, too,
O bold grim robbers—what a crew!
She helps to take the gold—but then
She hurries back to home again
For she must set the things for tea
With beautiful house-wifery.
The table’s set upon the floor,
The pirate marches in,
And eats and eats and asks for more
With true piratic din.
O ye who never knew the life
Of dragon-hunting, golden strife
Of pirates on a windy sea
Returning meekly home for tea;
Who never heard the black knight’s call—
I fear ye have not lived at all!
Poems about Adventure And Travel
Adventure and travel have always been a source of inspiration for poets, and these poems capture the thrill and excitement of exploring new places and experiences.
1. Travel
by Edna St. Vincent Millay
The railroad track is miles away,
And the day is loud with voices speaking,
Yet there isn’t a train goes by all day
But I hear its whistle shrieking.
All night there isn’t a train goes by,
Though the night is still for sleep and dreaming,
But I see its cinders red on the sky,
And hear its engine steaming.
My heart is warm with friends I make,
And better friends I’ll not be knowing;
Yet there isn’t a train I wouldn’t take,
No matter where it’s going.
2. The Enchanted Traveller
by Bliss Carman
We travelled empty-handed
With hearts all fear above,
For we ate the bread of friendship,
We drank the wine of love.
Through many a wondrous autumn,
Through many a magic spring,
We hailed the scarlet banners,
We heard the blue-bird sing.
We looked on life and nature
With the eager eyes of youth,
And all we asked or cared for
Was beauty, joy, and truth.
We found no other wisdom,
We learned no other way,
Than the gladness of the morning,
The glory of the day.
So all our earthly treasure
Shall go with us, my dears,
Aboard the Shadow Liner,
Across the sea of years.
3. Freedom
by Olive Runner
“Give me the long, straight road before me,
A clear, cold day with a nipping air,
Tall, bare trees to run on beside me,
A heart that is light and free from care.
Then let me go! — I care not whither
My feet may lead, for my spirit shall be
Free as the brook that flows to the river,
Free as the river that flows to the sea.
4. Eldorado
by Edgar Allan Poe
Gaily bedight,
A gallant knight,
In sunshine and in shadow,
Had journeyed long,
Singing a song,
In search of Eldorado. […]
And, as his strength
Failed him at length,
He met a pilgrim shadow;
“Shadow,” said he,
“Where can it be,
This land of Eldorado?”
“Over the mountains
Of the moon,
Down the valley of the shadow,
Ride, boldly ride,”
The shade replied, —
“If you seek for Eldorado!”
5. Rootless
by Jenny Xie
Between Hanoi and Sapa there are clean slabs of rice fields
and no two brick houses in a row.
I mean, no three—
See, counting’s hard in half-sleep, and the rain pulls a sheet
over the sugar palms and their untroubled leaves.
Hours ago, I crossed a motorbike with a hog strapped to its seat,
the size of a date pit from a distance.
Can this solitude be rootless, unhooked from the ground?
No matter. The mind resides both inside and out.
It can think itself and think itself into existence.
I sponge off the eyes, no worse for wear.
My frugal mouth spends the only foreign words it owns.
At present, on this sleeper train, there’s nowhere to arrive.
Me? I’m just here in my traveler’s clothes, trying on each passing town for size.
6. Road Trip
by Kurt Brown
The new road runs along the old road. I can see it
still imprinted on the earth, not twenty feet away
as I drive west past silos and farmsteads, fruit stands and hogs.
Once in Kansas, I stood in a field and watched
the stars on the horizon revolve around my ankles.
People are always moving, even those standing still
because the world keeps changing around them, changing them.
When will the cities meet? When will they spread until
there is a single city—avenue to avenue, coast to coast?
What we call “the country” is an undeveloped area
by the side of the road. There is no “country,” there is no “road.”
It’s one big National Park, no longer the wilderness it was.
But the old world exists under the present world
the way an original painting exists under a newer one.
The animals know: their ancient, invisible trails cross
and re-cross our own like scars that have healed long ago.
Their country is not our country but another place altogether.
Anything of importance there comes out of the sky.
In Amarillo the wind tries to erase everything, even the future.
It swoops down to scrape the desert clean as a scapula.
Here among bones and bleached arroyos the sun leans
through my window at dawn to let me know
I’m not going anywhere. There’s no more anywhere to go.
7. For The Traveler
by John O’Donohue
Every time you leave home,
Another road takes you
Into a world you were never in.
New strangers on other paths await.
New places that have never seen you
Will startle a little at your entry.
Old places that know you well
Will pretend nothing
Changed since your last visit.
When you travel, you find yourself
Alone in a different way,
More attentive now
To the self you bring along,
Your more subtle eye watching
You abroad; and how what meets you
Touches that part of the heart
That lies low at home:
How you unexpectedly attune
To the timbre in some voice,
Opening in conversation
You want to take in
To where your longing
Has pressed hard enough
Inward, on some unsaid dark,
To create a crystal of insight
You could not have known
You needed
To illuminate
Your way.
When you travel,
A new silence
Goes with you,
And if you listen,
You will hear
What your heart would
Love to say.
A journey can become a sacred thing:
Make sure, before you go,
To take the time
To bless your going forth,
To free your heart of ballast
So that the compass of your soul
Might direct you toward
The territories of spirit
Where you will discover
More of your hidden life,
And the urgencies
That deserve to claim you.
May you travel in an awakened way,
Gathered wisely into your inner ground;
That you may not waste the invitations
Which wait along the way to transform you.
May you travel safely, arrive refreshed,
And live your time away to its fullest;
Return home more enriched, and free
To balance the gift of days which call you.
8. A Prayer for Travelers
by Anon
May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face;
The rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of His hand.
Uplifting Poems about Adventure
This collection of uplifting poems about adventure will help you explore the unknown, discover yourself, and live life to the fullest.
1. A New Adventure
by Robert Longley
Welcome to the journey
It’s time to go outside
Sunny days are calling
The future’s open wide
This is a new adventure
There is so much to see
The world is new and waiting
Full of possibilities
A world that’s full of wonder
For those starting to explore
So many new experiences
And they’re always wanting more
Enjoy this special treasure
Give her love and watch her grow
Creating specials memories
With the seeds that you now sow
2. Life Is an Adventure
by Jim Yerman
It’s been said life is an adventure…but I believe it’s more complex
Life is not just one adventure…it’s one adventure…then the next.…
Then the next one, then the next one, then the next one…then the next…
Life is a series of adventures…as I say…a bit complex.
It’s true, when you stop to think about it…when one adventure is abating
up ahead, just around the corner…another adventure is awaiting.
Any adventure hinges on you…as to how it is defined
It depends on how you experience it…how you see it in your mind.
The Grand Canyon is magnificent…as you look out over the vastness of the land
but have you ever watched a ladybug…as it walks upon your hand.
An adventure can be simple…doesn’t have to bring acclaim.
Have you ever watched your granddaughter at a child’s softball game?
Reading a book can be an adventure…no matter what its shape or size
Even reading this poem can be an adventure…(for that I apologize!)
Yes, every moment can be an adventure…every move you make
every time you step outside…every breath you take.
If you look at life with adventure in your eyes…
think of all the things you’ll learn…
think of all the wonders you’ll experience…
when you see adventures at every turn.
3. Sea Fever
by John Masefield
I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.
I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.
4. Our Journey Had Advanced
by Emily Dickinson
Our journey had advanced —
Our feet were almost come
To that odd Fork in Being’s Road —
Eternity — by Term —
Our pace took sudden awe —
Our feet — reluctant — led —
Before — were Cities — but Between —
The Forest of the Dead —
Retreat — was out of Hope —
Behind — a Sealed Route —
Eternity’s White Flag — Before —
And God — at every Gate –
5. The Invitation
by Oriah Mountain Dreamer
It doesn’t interest me
what you do for a living.
I want to know
what you ache for
and if you dare to dream
of meeting your heart’s longing.
It doesn’t interest me
how old you are.
I want to know
if you will risk
looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn’t interest me
what planets are
squaring your moon…
I want to know
if you have touched
the centre of your own sorrow
if you have been opened
by life’s betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.
I want to know
if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.
I want to know
if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you
to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us
to be careful
to be realistic
to remember the limitations
of being human.
It doesn’t interest me
if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear
the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.
I want to know
if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
“Yes.”
It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live
or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.
It doesn’t interest me
who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the centre of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.
It doesn’t interest me
where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know
what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.
I want to know
if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like
the company you keep
in the empty moments.
6. Up-Hill
by Christina Rossetti
Does the road wind up-hill all the way?
Yes, to the very end.
Will the day’s journey take the whole long day?
From morn to night, my friend.
But is there for the night a resting-place?
A roof for when the slow dark hours begin.
May not the darkness hide it from my face?
You cannot miss that inn.
Shall I meet other wayfarers at night?
Those who have gone before.
Then must I knock, or call when just in sight?
They will not keep you standing at that door.
Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak?
Of labour you shall find the sum.
Will there be beds for me and all who seek?
Yea, beds for all who come.
Poems about Adventure And Love
This sub-category of poems explores the concept of adventure and love. Reading these will take you on a journey of emotions and feelings to uncover the power of these two concepts.
1. On The Seas of Night
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
I loved sailing upon the blue sea, and I was never too far from it,
As one who knows sweet cravings, is seldom far from chocolates.
In my previous much loved vessel, I had sailed a thousand miles,
As rainbows are seen from a distance, bringing on happy smiles.
My entire family enjoyed sailing, which I’d mastered in my youth,
As the throngs lie ignorant, until the blush dawn moment of truth.
I had been to so many places, that I could not recollect them all,
As sundry minute details of yesterday, tomorrow declines to recall.
Sleepy summer had come, and I had recently purchased a canoe,
As the peachy dawn recently arrived, ponders what it should dew.
I was taking my canoe out for the first time, on a maiden voyage,
Like a yellow canary’s first flight, way beyond the emerald foliage,
I set out late that afternoon, upon the clear and undulating lake,
Shadows were growing longer, with an ebony night in their wake.
I finally lay back, utterly contented, and I admired the Milky Way,
Like billions of glories of nature, that can be discovered any day!
Gentle rocking of my vessel lulled me, and soon I was fast asleep,
Like the sleep you have while dreaming, imperturbable and deep.
In vivid dreams I was soaring, and in dreams my spirit flew free,
As I glided away under pale moonlight, the waves lapping slowly.
Not once during that night did I stir, in a vast darkness complete,
As mountains are not ever stirring, for at skies they long to peep.
The next morning I finally opened my eyes, to four dazzling suns,
Some far and some near, and the air was breathable by humans.
The sky was a lovely shade of peach, streaked with wispy clouds,
And I was still in my canoe, though about reality I had my doubts!
I was drifting on a strange still lake, that was the hue of lavender,
And on the shore I saw giant blooms, exotic and without number.
In shades so unlike any recalled, from the blue planet of my birth,
With swirls so colorful and wild, beneath the odd woodland singers.
The foliage was much deeper green, than any that I had yet seen,
As night is darkest and richest, when the pearly moon fully gleams.
The suns were orange red gold and white, the air fresh and balmy,
And strange scarlet creatures swam around, babies and a mommy!
I was eager to get a look around, and rowed my boat to the shore,
As sun must visit many corners of night, for he desires to explore.
Soon walking to a clearing, I saw more odd animals flora and trees,
And blue mountains in the distance, with lovely birds in the breeze.
In the long course of that day, I met a purple alien with huge eyes,
We improvised a sign language, amid strange songs from the skies.
We had a happy time together, and I made an unforgettable friend,
And four suns set in unusual hues, as if starting a new color trend.
The planet’s name meant roamer, and my friend’s name meant rain,
For there rain was precious and rarer, and came bearing clear gain.
The reddish purple skies, were as dark as that night would become,
Until the morning of surprise, when the tranquil night was overcome.
Then Rain guided me to my canoe, so I could try to go back home,
Like seas returning to the other shore, after long hours have flown.
Rain and I hugged and held hands, in bittersweet heartfelt goodbye.
Yet I wasn’t sure I could get back, but knew I certainly had to try!
Once again in my canoe, in the red giant’s glow, I noticed a sight,
I could not have seen before, in the darkness of earth’s last night.
It was the gaping door of a hidden compartment, beneath my seat,
With a single big red button, that I must have pressed in my sleep.
For I had been lying underneath them, dreaming in the moonlight.
So waving I repressed the button, as Roamer and Rain left my sight.
My head was spinning, and my vision blurred, due to sheer velocity,
Yet on my return, the red button was gone-no more space odyssey!
2. Children of Light
by Regina McIntosh
In each thought
A vision, a memory, a little
Hope and faith, inspiration
Sometimes grace,
Peaceful whispers, smiles
Riding on the backs of light
Soft and flowing, glowing
Like insight, so bright
Dazzling waves of lasting
Sighs, silence breathing
Its shadow, hushing
Away all the darkness, the
Night, the soul’s melancholic
Falling away from the mind
Losing the battle for life
Without sorrow,
Life with no color, only gray
Laughing beyond the seas
Where joy beckons,
Caressing the eventide
With wings of feelings, so gentle
Erasing the wistful, blending
Truth and God’s will
So we can all know what it is
To give from the heart,
Pieces of hope, fragments
Like shards of our glassy memories
Bringing the mind sensitivity,
Adventure, the ability to restore
All the love that came before
The anxiety, the worry that assured
Souls of the mania who knows
This is life, who abides in the dream,
Life’s fantasy – will we ever see
This color, in hues of light,
Falling like rain, punctuating liquid
Wishes, welcoming starlight
Reflections shimmering in the dew
Erasing all the mystery with
The news that we are His creativity
Creations, visions, the reasons
He loves us without any conditions
We are the children and He is the meaning
Beneath prayers, convictions, praying
For the light who pours out love over the heart
The wonder who abides in souls who hope
Like there is only one hope and we can know
Without a doubt, it is His joy to bless us
With the warmth that covers us in His acceptance
3. Wave of Fantasy
by Skaidiv Morjin
We two are designed to these ebbs and troughs,
Gyro dynamic tempos to clench the soul,
And gnawingly let go,
Let flow
Far far away into sunsets,
And let grow further away into context,
Vegetate a garden of Compiegne lustful deceit,
And profanely reap the dreams that seem too far to reach,
Expedite in space time continuums of monads and adversities,
Validate the limits of Heisenberg’s uncertainty,
Certainly only to find you with me,
In hypothetical pasts that existed in these realities,
In dreams and pageantry indeed and fallacy,
Magically i.e. quantum mechanically,
Up up and beyond the pragmatic obtuse notation,
Lets escape on a star by motions of Schrödinger equations,
To serotonin states of patience,
With excepted placement and by our astral tribes,
Who could pedagogically prove the metaphor of how two worlds collide,
Rotary rotary Concaved, convex photonic light distributer!
Does this automaton hold my heart within her future?
The fate absoluter the limited suitor,
I’d experience this attraction if I was robotic.
Cardio hydraulics id drowned for you in a heartbeat,
If you depart this 3-dimensional carcass and were not mine
Move slower than the speed of darkness and remain lost in the past a thousand times!
I’d substantiate the replicas of emotional bliss,
Though we know that Love isn’t real, I know that this is,
And if the dead souled quantized ruled from above,
I’d forever encode my hard drive with the algorithms of us.
4. Lost And Found at Cushing
by John Howard
She’s found.
The one who left her Cashmere coat
in plain sight after the movie.
I didn’t know her.
I had no idea what I had found
at the end of my search.
She was beautiful.
The warm smile and sparkling eyes
looked at me.
“Hi…
Did you forget your coat,” I stared;
this had never happened to me.
And later, after we got her coat on,
She took my arm and leaned into my side
as we walked to say good night at her door.
New warmth overwhelmed an enlarged thirsty heart.
5. Thank You for The Morning Dew
by Robert Franklin
Thank you for the morning dew
You
You should know
You bring life to my day
There’s a sunrise in your smile
Brilliant rays break through my cloudy
thoughts
And show me my next step
A crisp morning dew in your smell
Is the scent of new life emerging
From a light Spring rain
Your hair falls around your face
Like curtains revealing the window to my
next adventure
Your voice is as soft and revealing as a
clear night sky
Your eyes twinkle like Orions shoulders,
Beckoning me to take an adventure
That knows no end
I thank the heavens for giving
the journey of you to me
6. The Love Step
by John Howard
Two dancers
embrace on destiny’s floor.
Their dance
started in youth
moves them apart
into other arms.
Their music
carries the message;
they are still in step
to be united again
and end rehearsal
for the next dance.
Poems about Adventure And Nature
Here, you can find poems that reflect on the wonders of the natural world and the exciting possibilities of discovering new places and experiences.
1. The Falcon
by Lee Geoghegan
I recall a life when I could fly,
Gliding gracefully upon cool winds way up high,
My prey lived in fear, I used to terrify,
I was a falcon, a raptor of the sky.
I soared majestically over great skies above,
Preparation for the hunt was a labour of love,
Cruising great valleys and magnificent hills,
The sweat and toil all worthwhile, when the blood finally spills.
Scouring below for an unwitting victim to stalk,
Suddenly, I’m diving upon my prey like a tomahawk,
My mind made up, my focus absolute,
Blazing through the clouds, I’m in full pursuit.
The thrill of the hunt, the same old story since ancient Babylon,
My prey ‘none the wiser’ until he was sprung upon,
Clasping him tightly within my powerful talon,
His last breath taken, now a journey to Avalon.
It was after my accident when it all became clear,
The life I lived before I ended up here,
It all came flooding back and brought many a tear,
That other life I once embraced and held oh so dear.
Once upon a time, I was a falcon,
The blue sky my territory, my conquered domain,
I welcomed the harshest winds and the rain,
This incredible revelation has numbed all of my pain.
I was once quite different from the man you see now,
This life is just a dream that I’ve awoken from somehow,
Fortunately, my injuries are too severe, it’s time to take a bow,
For I long to return to those blue skies once more, that’s my dying vow.
2. Nothing Gold Can Stay
by Robert Frost
Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf,
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day
Nothing gold can stay.
3. Lights Beyond The Lighten Galaxies-
by James Edward Lee Sr
Calibrated eyes;
So passionate;
They cheer on;
Dawning bright;
With compassion;
Soul reaction engaging the light;
Closing the eyelids to the darkness;
While blinded they get to see;
They resonate the light;
Glowing they can never be such light;
(So bright,
So right)
For the spiritual I see be;
Beyond the lights galaxies;
4. Airboarding
by Dave Collins
My rendezvous birth
caterpillar evolution
butterfly winged love
5. Reading by The Window: A Glimpse into The Story
by Bhuvanesh Sivakumar
The pages open
like leaves fluttering
in a stiff summer breeze
that reaches through the window,
carrying whispers and echoes
from lands far and away.
Beckoning restless hands
to turn the pages.
A breeze caresses the face
with a delicate touch,
like a hand tracing
the rough, grainy words on a page,
forever altering the contours
of oneself.
The flip-flap of pages
in silent moments
between a held breath
and whisper of words
like tiny wings of a hummingbird,
carrying you on endless adventures.
Shadow of the sun creeps by
while words gleam
in passing moonlight.
As dews gather light
on a ripening orange
glimpsed through the window.
The moment ripens while
dewdrops trace a winding, halting trail
along the pitted mien of the fruit
as the eyes flit over the words,
trying to prolong the inevitable,
enticing you to savor
the bittersweet moment
this long-awaited fruition brings.
A cocoon of warmth and safety
recedes like fading echoes
and the breeze vanishes,
carrying a part of you
leaving behind a lingering phantom
till the pages open again.
6. Refreshing Walk
by Kathryn
Walk
Outdoors
In nature
Among the trees
Or grassy meadows
Until your cheeks are red
The breeze you feel cools the skin
Some blooming flowers worth picking
The sun is setting and you will be
Home
Final Thoughts
To wrap up, adventure poems have the power to take us on a journey and inspire us to embrace life with an adventurous spirit.
They stir our souls, awaken our senses, and remind us of the beauty and excitement that awaits us beyond the horizon.
As mentioned above, we hope poems about adventure have sparked your wanderlust and inspired you to embark on your own daring adventure.
Do not hesitate to share your thoughts and comments below, and let us know which one was your favorite.
Have a nice day!
