In the Shadow of the Alhambra

In the shadow of the Alhambra, where the walls are painted red,
I sit beneath the ancient trees, where soft leaves overhead
Create a haven from the sun, fierce in Andalusian skies,
While tourists trudge in scorching heat, with sweat in tired eyes.

A coffee cup within my hand, its warmth a gentle grace,
The flavour mingles on my tongue, a slow and sweet embrace.
The cobblestones beneath my feet, worn smooth by countless years,
Whisper tales of history, of triumphs and of tears.

The distant hum of busy streets, the chatter and the clink,
As travellers seek the storied past, to drink and deeply think.
Yet here within this shaded square, a world away it seems,
From all the rush and flurry, from their sunburnt, fleeting dreams.

The scent of jasmine in the air, a soft and fragrant breeze,
Carries with it melodies, of flamenco and of ease.
The Alhambra watches from its height, majestic, proud, and grand,
A sentinel of ages past, in this timeless, tranquil land.

I sip my coffee, slowly, savouring the moment’s calm,
The world outside a blur of heat, here a gentle, cooling balm.
In the shadow of the Alhambra, where the past and present blend,
I find a peaceful refuge, in this square, a faithful friend.

Let the tourists chase the sun, with maps and fervent strides,
I’ll stay within this leafy nook, where Andalusia hides.
In the shadow of the Alhambra, where history and comfort meet,
I’ll drink my coffee, dream my dreams, in this shaded, cool retreat.

Tropical Sunset

Beneath the palms, where warm waves sigh,
I watched the day embrace the sky.
In hues of gold, the sun dipped low,
A final kiss on sand aglow.

The ocean sang its gentle tune,
A lullaby for the rising moon.
With every breath, the tropics played,
A symphony in colours laid.

As twilight whispered, stars took flight,
And dreams were born in soft twilight.
In that serene, eternal sweep,
The sunset rocked the world to sleep.

Time to go Home

In Central America where sunsets blaze,
A traveller’s heart in twilight sways.
Jungle whispers and ocean’s hum,
The end draws near, the journey’s done.

Through ancient ruins, mysteries unfold,
Mayan tales and histories untold.
Mountains high and rivers wide,
In the heart of adventure, we did confide.

Under the stars, by the fire’s glow,
Stories shared in the afterglow.
From Guatemalan peaks to Costa Rican shores,
In Central America, our spirits soared.

But now the call, like a distant chime,
Home beckons us, the end of the climb.
Flight awaits, wings in the sky,
Yet memories linger, refusing to die.

Bittersweet farewell to this vibrant domain,
In our hearts, Central America remains.
The quetzal’s song, the toucan’s call,
Echoes linger as the curtains fall.

As the plane ascends, through clouds we roam,
An adventure’s end, but in us, it’s sown.
Homeward bound with a soul reborn,
Central America, forever adorn.

The Northern Lights

Beneath the Arctic’s icy sheen,
A couple’s love, a daring dream.
They brave the cold, hand in hand,
In frozen landscapes, a love so grand.

Northern Lights, a cosmic dance,
A celestial display, a rare chance.
It’s cold outside, yet warmth they share,
Around the campfire, a love to declare.

Mountains whisper tales untold,
In the Arctic night, love unfolds.
Through frozen realms, they explore,
A timeless journey, forevermore.

The chill bites deep, but spirits soar,
In the Arctic’s embrace, they adore.
A cosmic serenade, a love untold,
In the Arctic night, a story unfolds.

Hand in hand, beneath starry lights,
They find love’s glow, a guiding light.
In the cold outside, views so divine,
Arctic love, an eternal shrine.

Home Sweet Home

Upon the road, a journey grand,
With foreign lands and sights so new.
But now, I’m back on native sand,
A joy to be back home, it’s true.

The memories of distant shores,
Of cultures rich and people kind,
In my heart, forever stored,
Yet home’s embrace, so hard to find.

The open road, a thrilling ride,
Adventure called from far and wide.
But in familiar streets, I stride,
With happiness I can’t hide.

The taste of meals from foreign lands,
The laughter shared with newfound friends.
Yet, here at home, where love expands,
My heart with warmth and joy transcends.

The world is vast, and I’ll explore,
But in my heart, there’s something more.
It’s the love and peace that I adore,
Being back home, forevermore.

So, as I unpack and settle in,
I cherish the journey that has been,
But in the comfort of home, I win,
For in this joy, my heart will sing.

Home Again

“Home Again”

Upon returning from afar,
A journey reached, like shooting star,
Chores await with open door,
To settle in, to sweep the floor.

Laundry whispers, piles embrace,
Washing tales of wander’s chase,
Kitchen calls, a feast to make,
Flavors blend from lands awake.

Dusty shelves, memories stored,
Souvenirs from abroad adored,
Garden yearns for tender touch,
Nurtured green, it blooms so much.

In bed’s embrace, dreams take flight,
In slumber’s realm, we reunite,
For home again, where love remains,
A place to rest, where joy sustains.

Porto’s Heart

Enjoying a lovely break in the city so thought we’d see how AI see’s this amazing place.

In Porto’s heart, where the Douro flows,
A bustling street, alive it shows.
The river whispers, a gentle plea,
As cobblestones dance with revelry.

Along the banks, the colors collide,
A vibrant tapestry, woven with pride.
Porto’s soul, in each step you find,
The rhythm of life, a vibrant bind.

Old houses smile, their windows bright,
Reflecting the sun’s warm golden light.
The scent of history fills the air,
As footsteps echo, embracing the square.

Cafés beckon with aroma’s embrace,
Portuguese melodies, a sweet grace.
Laughter and chatter, a symphony’s start,
Enveloping all with a joyful heart.

Tales of fishermen on the river’s edge,
Their stories whispered, as legends pledge.
Boats sway gently, embracing the tide,
As seagulls soar, their wings open wide.

The bridge extends, a majestic art,
Connecting souls, bridging every part.
With arches high, it spans the divide,
Unifying hearts on the river’s side.

In this bustling street, life unfolds,
A tapestry of stories, yet untold.
Porto’s essence, a symphony grand,
By the Douro’s embrace, forever stands.

What Time Is It?!

In the realm of early morn, when stars yet grace the sky,
A traveller awakens, with a yawn and sleepy sigh.
“OMG, what time is this?” their weary mind does ask,
For at 4 AM they rise, to catch a plane so fast.

Beneath the gentle moonlight, they slip out of their bed,
A suitcase by their side, where dreams and hopes are wed.
With tousled hair and bleary eyes, they stumble through the hall,
In search of caffeine’s solace, to answer morning’s call.

The airport looms ahead, a realm of hustle and of haste,
Where time is but a fleeting guest, the minutes move with haste.
Security lines wind, as seconds slowly fade,
The traveler waits in patience, their mind a serenade.

And as the wheels leave the ground, ascending into the sky,
The traveller finds solace in the question, “Oh my, oh why?”
For though the hour was early, and the world still half asleep,
The dawn became their witness, secrets only they shall keep.

So, let the clock’s hands march on, in timeless melody,
As journeys born at dawn unfold, with boundless reverie.
For in those precious moments, when time feels like a bliss,
The traveller whispers, “OMG, what time is this?”

Oh My Aching Feet!

In a foreign city, I find my way,
A wandering tourist, come what may.
Through bustling streets and ancient lanes,
I venture forth, exploring terrains.

Oh, my aching feet, weary and sore,
Carrying me further, cityscape galore.
Each step, a journey, in this vibrant land,
Where history and culture, hand in hand.

I stroll ‘neath arches, through grand boulevards,
Past fountains and statues, in city’s regards.
The rhythm of life, a symphony of sound,
Echoes of languages, diverse and profound.

With wide-eyed wonder, I gaze around,
Sights and marvels, both lost and found.
Gothic spires pierce the azure sky,
As I marvel at the towers, reaching high.

Through cobbled alleys, I chance to roam,
Discovering secrets, that aren’t yet known.
Whispers of tales from ages past,
Tantalizing glimpses, that forever last.

I encounter locals, warm and kind,
Sharing their stories, like treasures to find.
Sampling flavors, delightful and new,
As the city’s essence, seeps into my view.

Oh, my aching feet, they bear the weight,
Of a wanderer’s journey, a quest innate.
For in every footfall, a memory blooms,
Of a foreign city, where adventure looms.

From ancient ruins to modern delights,
Each landmark a story, stirring my sights.
Museums and galleries, with art so sublime,
Capturing moments frozen in time.

The sun casts its golden hues on the street,
As twilight descends, a magical feat.
I breathe in the night, with every heartbeat,
Whispering, “Oh, my aching feet!”

For in this foreign city, I’m but a guest,
A part of the tapestry, to be blessed.
So, I’ll keep on walking, through day and night,
Until my aching feet find their respite.

Oh, my aching feet, your pain is real,
But the memories forged are worth the ordeal.
In this foreign city, I find my retreat,
Thankful for the journey, and oh, my aching feet.

Homeward Bound

Ok, so it’s not the Simon and Garfunkle version, but it’s not bad!

I’m sitting in an airport terminal,
Waiting for my flight to take me home.
But oh, I hope this ain’t a journey ill-fated,
Praying to the travel gods, don’t be belated.

Homeward bound, I’m longing for my plane,
Just wanna fly, without delay and pain.
Airport blues, won’t you set me free?
Let me soar through the sky, oh, can’t you see?

The intercom crackles, announcing delays,
Passengers groan, their patience decays.
I’m looking at the clock, time ticking away,
Hoping my flight won’t be delayed.

Oh, the departure board, it’s a sea of red,
Canceled and delayed flights, messing with my head.
I see weary travelers, faces filled with despair,
All hoping to escape this airport nightmare.

The gate agent smiles, a glimmer of hope,
Announcing boarding, I grab my tote.
Finally, it’s time to leave the ground,
Praying no more delays will be found.

As the plane takes off, I let out a sigh,
Leaving behind the airport, oh, so high.
Though delays tried to keep me bound,
I’m finally homeward, touching down.