Tag: Mountains

The Mountains Are Calling, And I Must Go

Across the veils of mist and streams of melting snow,
Through the darkness of this smog-ridden concrete city,
I hear the mountains calling, and I must go.

The voices voyage through valleys high and low
Inviting me to green meadows with flowers so pretty
Across the veils of mist and streams of melting snow.

To a peaceful place where fresh, cool winds blow,
Where there’s no space for stress and negativity,
I hear the mountains calling, and I must go.

The mountains hold the warmth of the sun’s rosy glow,
And the leaves in the trees whisper a slow and soft ditty
Across the veils of mist and streams of melting snow.

The winding trails reveal secrets I long to know.
As I seek to break through the hopelessness and self-pity,
I hear the mountains calling, and I must go.

This monotonous city life is so dreary and hollow
Like a drive on an unending desert trail that’s gritty.
Across the veils of mist and streams of melting snow,
I hear the mountains calling, and I must go.

PS: This poem is a Villanelle

Call of the Mountains

Caught in the traffic, slow and crawling,
I long to run away from this life in the city.
Far far away, I hear the mountains calling.

This mundane existence is appalling.
I drown in wave upon wave of self-pity.
Caught in the traffic, slow and crawling.

I want to go to a place that’s enthralling,
Yet, be enveloped in peace and serenity.
Far far away, I hear the mountains calling.

Clear blue skies in which I’m free falling,
Evokes in my mind an image so pretty.
Caught in the traffic, slow and crawling.

The heat, dust, and smoke are all galling.
O! To listen to a fresh spring sing a ditty!
Far far away, I hear the mountains calling.

I hear their songs, which I keep recalling.
And wish my dreams will turn into reality.
Caught in the traffic, slow and crawling,
Far far away, I hear the mountains calling.

PS: This poem is a Villanelle.