Coot-tha from the Green Bridge

Coot-tha’s sensual curves,
Are bathed in the golden evening glow, 
While the shadows of the riverbanks trees, 
 Dance on the silent, sluggish river.

Discussing the day in the Eucalypts,
The lorikeets spoil the peace.

Not solely a physical bridge, this,

Connecting a city, 
But a metaphorical bridge rather,

showing the way.

Coot-tha’s sensual curves suffused in the last of the days light,
While hundreds of stars glow in the inky night.

A strange sliver of a moon peeks under an eclipse,
While lights dance on the river in nightly bliss.

The lights of the bridge lead not only the way,
But are also examples of a bright and better day.

I wrote this poem in 2010 one night after crossing the Greenbridge in Brisbane, Australia, from my university to the residential area on the other side.

Nearby Mt Coot-tha (pronounced Coo-tha) was lit up be the setting sun and looking magical.

What makes the bridge special is that all its lights and features are powered by solar panels on the footpath roof, and it is a bus and bike only bridge; hence the name.

What do you think, and which do you prefer? How could I tighten the poem?

Cantabria

Beauty, she lies, all gentle curves,

And soft, smooth contours,

Radiant and glowing in the warm Spanish sun.

The rounds of her mounts takes my breath away,

And the lush forest waits invitingly below.

The blue of her eyes is in the endless sea,

Surrounded by the rich browns of sun kissed skin,

The warmth of her skin reflected in a loving carefree attitude,

Which only enhances her physical beauty,

Here I feel at home,

Slowly traversing her hills and valleys,

Oh Cantabria, I’m glad I’m here with thee.

I wrote this poem on 21/04/2011 while on a bus trip through Cantabria, a province of Spain, on the way to meet a now ex-girlfriend who was working in Donostia/San Sebastian in the Basque Country/Spain.

I was in love at the time and excited to see her after a couple of months working in Germany; the beautiful northern Spanish countryside made me think of her…

Tuscan romance

 Tuscan romance

The spring sun is shining, the birds are a’flight,

As we weave our way through the Florentine light.

Filtered by green trees on the side of the road,

Bordered by clear rivers which for centuries have flowed,

We wind our way into the clear mountain air,

With our trusty Vespa to take us there.

Our destination unknown, but we know what awaits,

For in a Tuscan romance, good food and laughter's our fate.

I wrote this poem in mid-2011 while staying in Italy with my then girlfriend, and Italian.

Her family had a holiday house in the seaside town of Viareggio  in Tuscany and one beautiful day we had taken a drive up into the stunning hills and mountains that rise up in the hinterland. We visited a beautiful old church up on a hill surrounded by vineyards, had a delicious lunch and extremely flavourful Chianti (a local red wine) at a small family run restaurant that looked out over the valley. 

What a day in bella Italia!

Have you had any similar traveling experiences that inspired poems? Feel free to post them here if you have.

A town fit for a Queen

The jocund day stands tiptoed,

On the snowy mountain tops,

As the sun slowly rises,

Like the ticking of a clock.

Night is in retreat ,

With the dawning of the day,

As all throughout the town,

People come out to play.

With one thought, one aim,

They all set forth,

Thankful for the sunshine,

Ready to get their worth.

The mountains are our playground,

Our inspiration, our awe,

In one of the most beautiful towns ,

Which I ever saw.

I was inspired to write this poem after a snowboarding trip to Queenstown, New Zealand, one of the most beautiful towns I've seen.

Have you visited Queenstown? Do you have any comments or poetic replies?