Category: Travels

• Mountain Morning with You

  👀: 5

  In Carolina’s embrace of ancient stone,
  Where mist crowns peaks like silver veils at dawn,
  We walk together, never more alone
  Than when the world below seems far withdrawn.

  Your laughter echoes through the rhododendron,
  A melody that harmonizes sweet
  With songbirds calling from the wooded canyon,
  While autumn leaves dance gold beneath our feet.

  The Blue Ridge holds us in its gentle arms,
  Your hand in mine as soft as morning dew,
  Here time stands still, protected from all harms—
  Just mountain air, these rolling hills, and you.

  Your eyes reflect the valleys spread below,
  More beautiful than any vista here,
  In Carolina’s peaks, my heart does know
  That paradise is simply being near.

  The mountains may endure ten thousand years,
  But none will match the beauty that you bring
  To every trail we climb, each view that cheers—
  You make these ancient hills feel born of spring.

  So let us linger where the eagles soar,
  Where morning mist meets your sweet, gentle grace,
  For in these mountains, I have found much more
  Than scenic beauty—I have found my place.

  July 7, 2025

  love, travel

  ---

• South Carolina Waterfalls Ride

  👀: 4

  The engine’s soft hum, a promise we keep,
  As windows roll down in the Carolina heat.
  The air is like sweet tea, a thick, hazy green,
  The best kind of day, the best kind of scene.
  You’ve got the map out, a smile in your eyes,
  Beneath these expansive, blue southern skies.

  We’re chasing a rumor, a whisper, a sound,
  On winding back roads where grace can be found.
  Past stands of tall pine and dogwoods in bloom,
  Escaping the world in this sunlit room.
  The ribbon of asphalt unwinds and then climbs,
  Erasing the worries, erasing the times.

  Then we hear it at first, a distant, low roar,
  A secret the deep, hidden forest has stored.
  We park by the trail where the rhododendron grows,
  And follow the path where the cool water flows.
  Your hand finds my own, a natural fit,
  As sunlight through leaves is broken and split.

  The air starts to chill, a fine, gentle mist,
  A moment of magic I’m glad can’t be missed.
  And then through the trees, a torrent of white,
  Cascading on stone in the dappled green light.
  A treasure discovered, a breathtaking view,
  But not half as lovely or precious as you.

  We stand on the rocks, worn smooth by the years,
  The roar of the falls is all that one hears.
  And I think that this journey, this search and this ride,
  With you, my true love, right here by my side,
  Is better than finding what we came to see—
  The waterfall’s just an excuse, you and me.

  July 7, 2025

  travel

  ---

• Miles of Us

  👀: 4

  The engine hums a quiet hymn,
  your silhouette—the dusk grows dim.
  Dashboard constellations glow,
  map lines soft on radio.

  Your laughter stitches through the air,
  a song no highway could compare.
  Steering wheels turn, but here we stay—
  the world dissolves in chrome and gray.

  Each mile melts like sugar spun,
  horizons blurred, two hearts as one.
  Your hand in mine, the curves we trace,
  this car, a shrine to borrowed grace.

  Roads end, but not this fragile thread—
  wherever stop, you’re home instead.
  The engine sleeps; the stars align.
  Forever’s just your breath near mine.

  June 15, 2025

  travel

  ---

• Wisconsin Whispers

  👀: 4

  Beneath the sky so vast and wide,
  With you, my love, I’ll always ride.
  Through Wisconsin’s rolling plains,
  Where golden fields and forests reign.

  We drift along the winding streams,
  Where sunlight dances, soft it gleams.
  The Driftless hills, they rise and fall,
  A quiet grace, it captures all.

  In Door County, by the shore,
  We watch the waves forevermore.
  The lighthouse stands, a steadfast guide,
  With you, my heart feels amplified.

  Milwaukee’s lights, they softly glow,
  As through the streets we gently go.
  The breweries hum, the laughter flows,
  In every moment, love still grows.

  The Northwoods call with whispered breeze,
  Through pines and lakes, our souls find ease.
  A campfire’s warmth, the stars above,
  With you, my dear, I’m lost in love.

  From cheese curds crisp to supper clubs,
  We’ve shared it all, our hearts in sync.
  Through every town, each mile we’ve roamed,
  With you, my love, I’m always home.

  So here’s to Wisconsin, wild and free,
  And here’s to you, my destiny.
  Through every road, through every hue,
  The greatest journey’s me and you.

  June 15, 2025

  life, travel

  ---

• Where the Wind Carries Wyoming

  👀: 4

  Dusty boots trace the Tetons’ shadow-line,
  a prairie sighs, antelope blur the sage.
  Coyote hymns hum where the pines incline—
  the wind tongues secrets from an ancient page.

  In Jackson’s dusk, a diner’s neon bleeds,
  strangers trade snowstorms over coffee steam.
  June’s laugh lines crack like creek beds—stories seed
  where cherry pie melts into twilight’s cream.

  Bison carve paths through constellations’ sprawl,
  mustangs drum earth where asphalt dares not creep.
  Red canyons clutch the echoes of a call
  old as the falcon’s cry, the river’s sweep.

  Campfire sparks gnaw at the ink-black throat
  of night. The Bighorn points, the Wind River writes
  a map in scars, in hoofprints, in the note
  of steel strings frayed by endless, star-flung flights.

  Pronghorn dawn. Ghost towns exhale their dust.
  The wind stuffs my pockets with wild—I trust.

  June 15, 2025

  life, travel

  ---

• Horizon’s Embrace

  👀: 3

  Beneath a sky where constellations bloom,
  We chart our course—wild seas, uncharted trails.
  Your laughter, compass through the velvet gloom,
  Our sails entwined, defiance of the gales.

  Through valleys where the dusk ignites your eyes,
  Each step a sonnet, rugged paths made sweet.
  Mountains bow as storms become our cries—
  No summit too fierce where two heartbeats meet.

  We’ll etch our names in canyons, deep and vast,
  Draw alphabets in sand where tides rewrite.
  No treasure rivals moments shadows cast—
  Your hand in mine turns endless dark to light.

  For time’s a map we’ll fray with reckless feet,
  Adventure’s pulse—where dawn and darling meet.

  June 15, 2025

  life, travel

  ---

• Bannon’s Echo

  👀: 5

  Beneath a sun-bleached sky, the old bones lie—
  dust weaves through splintered doors, a hollow sigh.
  The saloon’s cracked glass hums a rusted tune,
  as shadows waltz where gold once burned the moon.

  A creaking sign still croaks the vanished name,
  while sagebrush claims the hearths that lost their flame.
  The mine’s black throat whispers what time untold—
  of pickaxe dreams that turned to phantom’s gold.

  Now dusk unspools the ghosts in cobalt light,
  their laughter etched in stars that pierce the night.
  The wind through rafters chants what stays unsaid:
  “We built our empires, then became the dead.”

  But Bannon breathes in every sun-scorched stone—
  a tomb, a testament, where silence owns
  the weight of thirst, the rush of fleeting ore…
  The earth remembers what we’re yearning for.

  June 9, 2025

  life

  ---

• Ghosts of Nevada City

  👀: 4

  In the heart of the Sierra, where the pines touch the sky,
  Lies a town of lost whispers, where memories sigh.
  Nevada City, once bustling, with gold in the streams,
  Now a ghost town of stories, a cradle of dreams.

  The echoes of laughter still dance through the air,
  In the saloons and the streets, where the brave laid their flair.
  Horses trotted on cobblestones, miners’ hopes high,
  Now the dust settles softly, as the sun bids goodbye.

  The old wooden houses, with shutters askew,
  Stand silent and stoic, as if waiting for you.
  Their walls hold the secrets of fortunes and fate,
  Of lovers and outlaws, of joy and of hate.

  The wind carries whispers of legends long past,
  Of the rush for the riches, of a time that flew fast.
  The spirits still wander, in twilight’s soft glow,
  Through the ruins and shadows, where the wildflowers grow.

  By the creek, you can hear the faint clink of a pan,
  As a ghostly prospector dreams of his plan.
  With a heart full of hope and a shovel in hand,
  He searches for fortune in this once-thriving land.

  So if you should wander through Nevada’s embrace,
  Pause for a moment, let the stillness take place.
  For in each weathered timber, each stone, and each sigh,
  Lies the pulse of a town where the past won’t die.

  In the golden light fading, let your spirit be free,
  For Nevada City holds more than just history.
  It’s a tapestry woven with life’s every thread,
  A ghost town of whispers, where the living and dead.

  June 9, 2025

  life

  ---

• Whispers of Virginia City

  👀: 7

  Beneath Montana’s endless sky,
  the wind combs through the splintered frames,
  where silver veins once lured the bold—
  now dust claims each forgotten name.

  The saloon door creaks a hollow tune,
  a piano’s ghost hums rusted keys,
  while shadows kneel where miners crouched
  to sift the earth for fickle keys.

  Boot prints linger on warped boardwalks,
  sun-faded signs still boast their lies,
  and nightfall drapes the empty streets
  in stars that mirror dead fireflies.

  The mountains guard what time erodes—
  each crack, each echo, every scar.
  A town’s last breath is never gone…
  just borrowed by the twilight’s ear.

  June 9, 2025

  country

  ---

• Under the Stars in Zion

  👀: 4

  In Zion’s embrace, where the wild rivers flow,
  With my sexy girl, we set out to roam,
  The canyons are calling, their red rocks aglow,
  Hand in hand, it feels just like home.

  We hike through the trails, where the wildflowers sway,
  Her laughter a melody, brightening the day.
  With each step we take, our spirits take flight,
  In this magical place, everything feels right.

  As the sun starts to dip, painting skies in gold,
  We find a soft spot where the night unfolds,
  With stars up above, like diamonds on black,
  We steal a sweet kiss, no reason to hold back.

  The Milky Way dances, a celestial show,
  In the whispering winds, our secrets will flow.
  With the cliffs as our backdrop, the world fades away,
  Just my sexy girl and the dreams we will sway.

  So here in Zion, where the heartbeats align,
  Each kiss under stars feels like pure, sweet divine.
  With the mountains as witnesses, the night ever bright,
  In this wild, wondrous place, everything feels right.

  June 9, 2025

  country

  ---