1 of 73

by Sid de Knees

On shanks.

Would seem the day is mine to play,
all plans are made for staying in,
while autumn grips my little isle,
I'd much prefer to shake my shin,

and raise my shank in search of views,
up high above white frosted lakes.
I'd tred along thin gravel paths,
the mindfull walker gently takes,

and find a rock, on high, to rest,
and drink my homemade chicken broth,
then dip my bread til I am full,
and wrap my litter in a cloth.

And when I'm back I'll share my tale,
beside the flames while drinking ale.

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Poetry: Travel

1 of 73
by Sid de Knees

On shanks.

Would seem the day is mine to play,
all plans are made for staying in,
while autumn grips my little isle,
I'd much
read more
2 of 73
by Arthur Croker

MY FREE PASS
I will take the early morning train
With sandwiches made from multigrain
Speeding off down to Dublin City
Humming
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3 of 73
by Dolores Moore

FELLOW TRAVELER?
"Where are you bound for, are you going far?"
She asked with a wistful smile.
"Only I have been stuck here
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4 of 73
by Razors Edge

SANUR BEACH
The Balinese ladies walk
with dignity
in the grey dust,
bearing Dewi's fruit in silver bowls.
Scant in their pale
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5 of 73
by Carrie Frost

Walking Through Eternity

She walks in the valley

Between darkness and light

A line in the sky of her life

Between midnight
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Poetry: Travel

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Poetry: Travel

by Sid de Knees

Poetry: Travel

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