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At first light trudging through the Arctic Snow,
Is it for thrill or just a Facebook photo show?
As the Arctic wind buffets our flushed face,
The long-awaited walk soon becomes a shambles of a race.
Hands morph to splintered wood, eyebrows deftly freeze,
And yet the brochure promised we’d do this trek with ease.
Soldier on, embrace the frigid grind,
Pray aloud that inner fortitude to find,
Not a sound outside our laden breath,
Every move made with fractured hapless stealth.
But coupled to the cold a streaming sweat,
A larger wager would I not have surely bet,
That a saunter on the glistening Arctic Tundra
Would at most develop the art of soothing Mantra.

Then a booming voice disturbs this quiet introspection,
As the guide engages in frantic group inspection,
His walkie talkie comes suddenly to life,
Stern commands soon wailing shrill with strife.
Bears ahead with teenage cubs in tow,
Keep down, stay low,
Curb the chatter, pretend you’re but a stone,
Form a line, don’t venture out alone;
Rifle’s cocked, don't turn around,
Polar bears don't run - they bound.
Now move backwards, avoid their steely gaze,
Take full advantage of this soaring Polar haze.

Maybe minutes, but seemingly an age,
As we shuffle blindly stage by stumbling stage;
Our Dunkirk - the waiting rubber boats,
Ecstatic for anything that somehow runs and floats.
Back to the ship, sodden and quite sore,
Not to mention frozen to the epicenter of our core,
We huddle around cups of steaming tea,
Sharing stories of all we had to fear and see.
You may well ask, was this the fateful end,
Did we to natures will forlornly yield and bend?

It's true the thought did rather cross our minds,
Fearful of more unscripted scrapes and woeful binds,
However, a good sleep and liquid strength galore,
Did somewhat mollify that sorry shameful score.
For as dawn broke early the next day,
To a person did we in seeming chorus say:
Off we trudge as more adventure waits,
To experience all that Nature's majesty creates,
Our only thought one of craving more,
And so we went, still frozen to our core.
A little story from our recent Arctic trip
Atypnoc Mar 8
Been looking into bridges
Over water, to go swinging
Down in flames I fall asleep
Dreaming about my breath away
A fjord flowing between ridges
Frem og tilbake water bringing
Me out to sea to fall asleep
Til then I wake up. It's today.
MetaVerse Feb 27
There once was a woman from Norway
Who'd hang by her toes in the doorway:
     She went to her dude
     And his friends in the ****
And requested a fjordian fjour-way.
Compare limericks by Lear and Swinburne about the woman of Norway.
A, Norwe-
         gian, fjord,
             overlooking, loftily.
                        Like, sixteen-
                        aged, potential,
                   love. Like, several,
                         protege's; full,
                           and, predicted,
                                            futures.
                           The, raven's, eye,
                   intersects, the snow,
                       as, though, a, beauty,
spot, on, translucent, skins; a-black
-serpentine-rock-set-in-silver-sutures.
           I, counted, to, nine, as, the
magic, faded......... Mountainous,
                    terrain, murmured, with,
                           feathered, subtlety.
"To be, a fjord, is, to, truly, view,
   the world, &, know, cascading, change,
                      over, those, that, are, newer."

© poormansdreams
A poem about the Norwegian fjords.
If it's not something others will do,
If their governments will not hold their leaders accountable,
Then we need the Paddys, the Svens, the Pablos to;
You cannot wait for a criminal
To turn themselves in,
For they never shall.
At their level,
They will avoid prosecution
Till they swim in the lakes of hell.
And meanwhile, how many
Will they facilitate in the deaths of?
How many innocents murdered?
How many must be "martyred?"
Carlo C Gomez Jul 2022
~
Come and stay with me
in Hammerfest

A compact town
a compact love

The harbor and your heart
within walking distance of each other

White night
civil twilight

A disc rather than a point

Where the multiple exposure
of your first day smile
never subsides

~
Philip Connett Apr 2021
Stay well beautiful childs
Of this night
Of this night forever
My fragile child of strung silver white hair
And that air echoes forever
My silver child of the endless shores
My angel child sing for me
Of dreams and angel things
Stand strong in the evening wind
Bend as though an angel in prayer
And sing for me of the endless

You know it's times like these my child
Where I could spit in the wind
That I could break the evening waves
That like a light in the dark I'm searching for a way to go on
For I've got a reason but she's a distance away
It's been years of searching
The decades echo on
And I'm still here with my long hair and gnarled skin
But it's amazing what a woman can do
So I search on for you
And I'll make her hair the silver streams
And her body the cradle of the valley
And the rising mountain sides
And her lips the sweetest kiss for you
I'll make her ***** so soft and warm
And her voice of angel's harmony
And I'll scratch on in the darkness
Black with my claws until I find her flaws
Even and smooth and her love here just for you
And if I find her flaws
I don't care it's a wide world
And her smile like the sun
Like the gates in the mountainside
And may her river flow and slake our thirst
And if I find her flaws
I'll smooth them over for you
May her crown shine as though the radiance in the sky
And I shall dance in her fires
And her eyes rejoice for we are her lovers
May her breast heave with joy for we are her ones
And if I find her flaws I'll smooth them over for you
And may her belly be deep and dire with the darkest lust for life
And love for me and you
And may her heart burst with love and stand true

As though the bend of that angel in prayer
And the song that sings on in the open air
I suppose this poem was really inspired by my dire requite for love, by my dire need for love and the ****** and Venusian allure typified in depiction by the beauty represented by my lovers - as though an effigy of Cythera's impart themselves.
Anastasiia May 2019
Surrounded by scraps of paper
all over the timber floor
with a pair of morning rays
gleaming over her shoulder
she seated herself in her father’s study
and cruised to the shores of Norway.

Erasing word after word
tearing pages apart
her ship sailed
through the endless waters
of the Baltic sea
passing Copenaghen.

Holding onto the deck railings
and a loose-leaf notebook
she survived a storm
and a pirate invasion.
Her pen was her sword
in the shadows of the brightest star.

Leaning on the amber cupboard
that her father kept locked at all times,
she met a male whale and a female whale
or at least she thought so;
a chain of islands and Scandinavian mountains.
But it was time to moor, the brunch was ready.
Mili Vada Apr 2019
You
I’m drawn into,
Scooped up
I’m shattered in thousands,
Glued right up
I’m head over heals,
But just not in you.
Marte Lindholm Aug 2018
Palms, acacia, and eucalyptus trees
Long, white beaches
Red, hot sand
Down under
Far from home
A spark lits up
Like the stars shining
Over the spread-out city

Oak, spruce and pine trees
Long, deep fjords
White, cold snow
Up in the north
Somehow far from home
Cloudy and raining
A glimpse of the moon
The same as you see
When home isn't home anymore
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