This is the Open Write, a place for educators to nurture their writing lives and to advocate for writing poetry in community. We gather every month and daily in April — no sign-ups, no fees, no commitments. Come and go as you please. All that we ask is that if you write, you respond to others to mirror to them your readerly experiences — beautiful lines, phrases that resonate, ideas stirred. Enjoy. (Learn more here.)
Our Host
Leilya lives in Ponchatoula, LA, a small town celebrated for its strawberries. She teaches and coordinates the English Education Program at Southeastern Louisiana University. Preparing future English teachers, she hopes they become caring, competent, and effective educators. She is an editor and contributing author of Where Stars Meet People: Teaching and Writing Poetry in Conversation. Her other books are devoted to teaching young adult literature in high school. Leilya loves people, cultures, and their rich traditions. She reads, writes, listens to music, visits her children and grandchildren, and enjoys traveling with her husband.
Inspiration
Every trip becomes a story because of the people who travel with us. Some companions make us laugh. Some get us lost. Some overpack, oversleep, or insist on stopping for every roadside pastry. Some only exist in books, films, or our imagination.
If you could take anyone on a summer adventure, who would it be?
Today, let’s play a little. You may write a limerick, a humorous poem, or any short playful piece about the person, character, or creature you’d like beside you on the journey.
Process
Write about your ideal, or disastrous, traveling companion. You may choose a spouse or friend, a fictional character, a historical figure, a celebrity, a pet, or someone unexpected.
You may write a limerick, or any other kind of a poem. You are welcome to play with words and exaggerate your companion’s habits for humor. You may just want to describe one unforgettable travel moment, or simply imagine where the two of you would go together
As always, you may ignore the prompt completely and write about anything you would like to share with us.
Leilya’s Poem
My Traveling Partner
There once was a man I adore
Who never quite rushes the door.
While I’m checking the gate,
He says, “Piano, piano. Just wait.”
Then buys one more snack from the store.
Still, somehow, wherever we roam,
With him every strange place feels home.
Your Turn
Now, scroll to the comment section below to write your own poem. (This is a public space, so you may choose to use only your first name or initials depending on your privacy preferences.) Not ready? That’s okay. Read the poems already posted for more inspiration. Ponder your own throughout the day. Return later. And, if the prompt does not work for you, that is fine. All writing is welcome. Just write something. Oh, and a note about drafting: Since we are writing in short bursts, we all understand (and even welcome) the typos and partial poems that remind us we are human and that writing is always becoming. If you’d like to invite other teachers to write with us, tell them to subscribe. Also, please be sure to respond to at least three writers.
The wide winding road spins back and down,
Around the mountain far outside of town,
A cathedral stands prominent and true,
All here is needed for one to start anew.
Yet here you are not once but twice,
Recalling the pure memory as good a chance as dice,
No matter your forgetful, imaginary mind,
This time you will bring back one of a kind.
A red and gold pendant depicting God’s mother,
One, twice, thrice blessed by an Ethiopian brother,
“By the power of God bless this young man,
to always seek your son the King and the Lamb.”
Leilya,
Thanks for hosting, and the suggestion prompt of traveling companion. I think today I’m going to opt for sharing one I wrote for yesterday. I wasn’t sure if the end of the poem works, or makes thigs more convoluted, so feedback wouldn’t hurt. Hope your summer goes well.
FATHER’S DAY
In my growing up,
Father harvested allegory
with a sharp knife
from his Indiana roots,
and he would carry it home in a briefcase,
or pull it off a garage shelf and share it
as a process, unfolded and laid out.
In my growing up,
Father had magic bone spurred knees
that would click a cadence at night,
a precursor to our reluctant sleep
or hallway lights coming on,
before spoken reminders
to two snoring boys.
In my growing up,
Father was an alchemist of hours,
driving off mornings,
returning before dinner,
and in the process his absence
became groceries, Cub Scout uniforms,
dentist visits, and vacations.
In my growing up,
Father carried the weight of time,
moments of import
emotional and imprinting,
shared with me as a little boy
moments of definition
ethical and faith based,
shared with me as a teen
moments of anticipation
purposeful and motivated,
shared with me as a man
moments of our knowing
the weight of time,
shifts from shoulders
father to son.
The last three stanzas should be staggered to the right, with each line of the last stanza staggered, except for father to son which should be returned to flush left…I wasn’t able to format it that way…
I am practicing some form of incompetence, being a day late and a dollar short…
Thank you, Rex! I am glad I returned here to check for any poems to be posted the next day.
I like how you build beautifully from childhood to adulthood, and the father’s roles evolve with each stanza. The final lines don’t feel convoluted to me. I see them as the natural culmination of the poem’s message, where memory becomes inheritance shifting from “father to son.”
BLUE
My best friend,
always,
from first sight,
matching eyes,
beautiful.
Rows of reflection,
innate connection,
Surround me,
With
natural affection.
I rest again,
always,
in last rights,
Closed eyes,
beautiful.
Clouds pure white,
Spiritual flight,
With me,
My blue light.
To crest within,
always,
His might,
Blue eyes,
Blue skies,
Beautiful.
Good night…
Oh, Clayton, what a heartfelt tribute to a blue-eyed companion! Love the second stanza with reflection, connection, and affection rhyme. The ending is pure and gentle–so well crafted. Thank you!
Lovely, poem and pic, Clayton. The blue and white, the ores moving through the reflection above and alongside with the “eyes” metaphor work so well, and the series of Bs in the alliterative closing feel like breathing, maybe from the work of rowing.
Thanks again, Leila.
Five on a boat
Staying afloat
Through water canals
In France
They gave us hard chores
Laurie wanted no more
She had enough
Of being tough
To step down
At the nearest town
Where a train passed
That’s what she asked
So we were dropped off
The train didn’t stop
What a pity
Laurie stated to sob
The tears were flowing
Someone stopped, knowing
Something was wrong
Laurie’s tears tore his heart
He wanted to help
And do his part
Paid for a bus
Got us a ride
Laurie’s tears dried
I was wide-eyed
Her ways got us back
In time for a snack
Before catching our flight
She smiled with delight.
“Let’s do this again!”
What. Wonderful travel story! With a happy ending and all…
Sue, what a story! Laurie got you in little trouble, and her tears got you out of it. Where are you going next? 🙂
Oh, Susan, what a story of witnessing Laurie’s panic, more like exhaustion, that comes with the sensory overload and pace and mental stamina needed with group travel. And, yes, you captured well that snacks are important. How important those final lines are to show Laurie remembers the good of travel and wants to stay with it. But maybe the speaker is thinking otherwise.
Leilya,
Thank you for this great prompt and your sweet poem.
My husband and I have been hiking with friends in Peru. So this was a great opportubity to write a series of haiku about our amazing guide, Josetito. Posting these haiku, along with other writing and photos of our trip at my blog, Pedaling Poet, https://pedalingpoet.wordpress.com/
—————————————
Kind Josetito
kind Josetito
taught us of Incan culture
gratitude for all
give Pachamama
Mother Earth, respect, first drink
always thank for gifts
work together to
build temples with giant stones
join without mortar
helped us on hard hikes
offered his arm so not slip
on sacred blue rocks
taught us Quetchuan words
Incan empire’s language
Andean highlands
condor, puma, snake
monotheistic symbols
messengers to worlds
told me bird folktale
Jesus put tongue on top of
head of lying bird
grandparents told him
these stories to help him learn
Andean values
only need three rules
do not lie, steal, be lazy
consequences match
if lie, cut off tongue
shirk, out of community
steal, cut off finger
to be outside of
family, community
equals poverty
person can come back
into community when
ready to work, help
farms the land by hand
with his four brothers, sister
reciprocity
farm on terraces
each family works one day
for community
serves as insurance
if family’s terrace yield
is low, needs are met
learned so much on this
great vacation in Peru
values to carry
So much wisdom here. And your pacing was perfect. I feel the peace and the strength…
Sharon, your haiku poems and chains of them strung like pearls are inspiring and show such complex and full topics with just the perfect amount of brevity to see the details and share the feelings and thrills of travel. I like the other-language feel of the consequences of crime.
Hi, Sharon, I was just thinking about you this morning. Thank you for sharing with us your wonderful guide Josetito. I have learned a few things from your poem along the way. I liked Andean values too:
“only need three rules
do not lie, steal, be lazy
consequences match”
They are universal.
Lovely to revisit these places through your haiku, Sharon, and I can hear the voice and stories of your guide. The haiku makes space for the stories in between and other writers to be present in the white space. Lovely.
My Traveling Partner
The one who prepares well
but pivots on a dime
The one who takes her time
but can leave in a rush
The one who knows when viewing sights it is time to be hush
but lets the music ring until the morning hours
The one who would with me climb towers
but would rather read on the beach
And at the journey’s end with me I can truly say
all is indeed very well.
Brian, love the rhymes and the details of your lovely traveling partner. The ending is great…”all is indeed very well” is a great ending.
Thank you for your kind accolades on the rhymes and ending Denise!
Oh, Brian, it sounds like you have a wonderful partner/companion! I love this stanza:
“The one who takes her time
but can leave in a rush”
It tells me about an adventurous nature of your partner.
I am blessed with a wonderful companion, and your poem indicates that you had a wonderful companion as well. She is adventurous, that is for sure!
Brian,
Thanks for sharing this sweet tribute. I like how you show the contrasts within your traveling partner and between the two of you.
Thank you Sharon! On a future version I’ll need to think of ways to contrast between the two of us more!
Brian, the rhythm here has such a tone of story, rhyme, beats that show a keeping of pace of the partner, the one. I like this reference to the partner, the one. That repetition really does honor the companion as special.
I was worried the repitition was too much, so I’m glad you enjoyed it in my poem! I like the idea of showing how my companion has beautiful contrasting parts of her personality that shine through as a traveler.
Hi Brian,
Late responding and so happy I was able to enjoy your poem. What a fun traveling partner you have. Everyone should be so fortunate.
I loved these lines:
Thank you for sharing this poem and your traveling partner with us!
Leilya, I love your last line: “Still, somehow, wherever we roam,
With him every strange place feels home” sums up a perfect trip. I’m keeping up my study abroad theme here so just stay with me. I did have a traveling companion and our haphazard departure experience was eventful! It wasn’t funny during, but we laughed about it after we made it back home.
Walking to the bus stop with all these bags,
Out of place at 7:02 a.m.- tourist red flags.
An excessive TSA search,
Would’ve made a sinner uncomfortable in church.
Next trip is a four-door with readable tags.
Jessica, I am all ears to hear more about your study abroad trip. Oh, how I dislike that “excessive TSA search.” I experienced it once, and it was very intimidating. Love your rhymes, especially “search/church.”
Thank you for writing!
Oh, you are right! Traveling by plane with TSA searches makes it too hard.
Oh, that line, “would’ve made a sinner uncomfortable in church,” is a beautiful way to bring yourself, your life, your frame of reference to this TSA space. Nice.
Florida adventures with my girlfriend.
We walked along the beaches on the sandy shore.
There was still so much left to explore.
Along the water I get pushed into the sea.
However I get out with a face full of glee.
As the one who pushed me, is the one I adore.
Thank you, Adnan! Your “face of glee” shows how much you enjoy the time with your companion. And Florida sounds so good right now.
Adnan, fun and playful poem about your love. It says a lot that you got out “with a face full of glee”. Sweet!
Adnan,
Thank you for sharing the fun of playing as we travel with loved ones.
Leilya, I’m caring for my grandson while I remembered fun memories of traveling with my roomie.
There once was an artist named Cheryl
Her traveling style, quite feral
Never shunned a risk
Decisioning was brisk
We had fun ending in few major perils
Ha! Sometimes escaping those perilous endings makes for the best stories (and poems). Have fun with your grandson!
Denise, it sounds like Cheryl is quite the fun grandson to adventure with!
Denise, caring for your grandson sounds like a great adventure. Now you left me wondering about those “few major perils” with Cheryl. Thank you!
I love the juxtaposition of fun ‘in a few major perils’. It always feels like terror in the moment and comedy later, and your last verse captures that very beautifully
Lol, Denise! I love the line “Her traveling style, quite feral”! Cheryl sounds like an awesome, adventurous roommate!
Denise, I think this is what I need when I grow up, living a carefree, haphazard life! I laughed at the feral lifestyle, but this line “Decisioning was brisk” is going to be me one day. Thank you for sharing.
This is great! I love that she was so adventurous to take those risks.
Denise— I love this! May I join you??
I can only imagine the feral traveling style…..coming, going, a little on the wild side, wanting food. Ha! I love those photos of your sweet grandson that you have shared. He is precious.
Cousins who love to cook.
For years I’ve longed to bring them
To walk these ancestral paths
Where rice is eaten three times a day,
Four if you include dessert
Where ocean There are two in my dream
creatures teem
Fried, baked, steamed, any way they want.
Where ancestors from heaven smile
Those in the tiny town
will rejoice that they’ve come, at last.
This sounds like a marvelous place for a family reunion. I hope it happens! I know I’d love fresh seafood anytime,
Cayetana, this will be a dream trip with the dream companions. I “hear” your longing for “ancestral Paths” and rice, any way you cook it. I hope it will come true. Thank you for sharing!
Cayetana I love how your poem captures a longing to travel with people and what you desire to do with them. A really creative and fun twist on the travelling companion!
Cayetana, this is what I remember when me and my cousins were younger. Everyone came to grandmother’s and grandpa’s house. I love this line:“Where ancestors from heaven smile.”Memories from my family were made over Kraft Mac & Cheese and peach cobbler instead of rice. Thank you for sharing.
Cayetanya,
I love the connection you yearn to make between your cousins and your homeland.
Leilya, your poem inspired me to write about my husband who has been my traveling companion for many years. In fact, we just celebrated our 30th anniversary earlier this month. In four days, he’ll join me in retirement! We hope to be able to continue traveling, not only to our favorite places, but to new and exciting places as well. Thank you for this fun prompt!
On the Road Again…and Again
On road trips, my guy takes the wheel.
My nerves are on edge; his are steel.
He conquers each mile
with his silver-fox style
while I sing off-key, but with zeal.
If he needs a snack, it’s alright.
Our snack bag is never packed light.
I hand him some food
to ensure his good mood
as he drives on and on through the night.
I keep him awake with my chatter…
road games, and word games, and patter.
Sometimes he sighs,
and then rolls his eyes;
and I say with surprise, “What’s the matter?”
With all of the miles that we’ve racked up,
and the times that we’ve unpacked and packed up,
I’ll admit that we’ve fussed,
and sometimes we’ve cussed;
but mostly we’ve laughed ’til we cracked up.
On some of our trips, we’ve been harried,
and the places we’ve seen have been varied.
O’er the miles that we’ve traveled,
our love hasn’t unraveled.
It’s been 30 years since we married!
Lori, as I read your poem I remembered how many times we embarked on a road trip where I was a navigator in charge of snacks and entertainment, so these lines resonated immideately:
“I keep him awake with my chatter…
road games, and word games, and patter.”
Love the final lines of your poem solidifying your love and devotion to each other. You managed to keep the limerick structure throughout the entire poem. Masterfully done!
What a sweet capture of how you two travel together . . . from the words games to the snacks and the occasional fuss and cuss!
Lori, I am thrilled for you and your husband in your new adventures that retirement will bring! I totally get this part:
I hand him some food
to ensure his good mood
Yes…..yes, we call ours the “snippy snacks.” They keep him from getting snippy. Congratulations on the anniversary! Safe travels! Maybe you can get to Powell’s and let your niece show you around up there….I can see how she spends hours in a bookstore that covers a city block.
Bombadil’s Walk
The dark, old forest groans in the morning light,
“Awaken ye treant’s, and bring us your might!”,
There spouted Tom, Bombadil was his name,
Only the rivers and trees know of his fame.
For whence there was one ring to rule them all,
Very few creatures were sentient before the fall,
There walked Tom unaffected by the folly,
Dancing with his Goldberry ever so jolly.
If I could walk with Tom and ask him his name,
His answer would surely be confused and to blame,
“Here I was before the wind and the rain,
Since the two trees split I have seen so much pain.”
“You ask me my name,
Yet do not know yours,
For in this darkness,
Never forget your cores.”
“Walk with one foot before the next,
Eventually you will find the sacred text,
For in life’s dark cave,
You will often feel consumed.”
“No matter how close or far it may go,
Down the dark tunnel to find something new,
And no matter how sad your head might fall low just know,
That the light at the end of the tunnel may be you.”
For fans of the Lord of the Rings!
Ben, I really admire how you can take us on this journey keeping so much of the Lord of the Rings lore intact, AND rhyme! This is really well done.
Ben thanks for taking me on this journey as I love the lord of the rings, and it was really precious to read. Precious? PRECIOUS?
Ben, this was a joy to read. You really carried through this poem the Tolkien’s spirit with his wisdom, mystery, and Bombadil charm. It felt as if I took this walk with you. Thank you!
Leilya,
Thank you for a fun way to honor traveling partners today. It’s the first day of summer and my mom’s 92nd birthday, rest in peace. My limerick brings me all the loving memories of our summers together on the beach.
Beach Memories with Mom
My sweet Mom and I loved the shore,
Fresh peaches and snacks to adore.
We’d find sand crabs all day,
And let them scurry away,
I wish to see her once more.
©Stacey L. Joy, 6/21/26
Such a lovely way to honor your mom today, Stacey. I can picture those crabs scurrying!
Stacey, for sharing this loving poem of the times you shared on the beach with your Mom! And, Lord willin’, you’ll get to see her once more, across the Jordan on heaven’s shore!
Stacey, this poem is a beautiful tribute. That last line squeezed my heart.
Stacey, every day is a great day to honor your Mom. I love the choice of peaches, and oh, I know how you wish to see her once more. I feel the same thinking about my Mom. Hugs!
This is beautiful, Stacey, a wonderful tribute for your mom on her birthday! Thank you for sharing it with us, too!
Leilya, thanks for these fun themed prompts this week! Today enabled me to reflect on my first trip European trip which took place just about a year ago — and it made me go back through my photo album and relish the time my friend Gail and I had together on that trip!
File Mou (My Friend)
Dinner companions, out with the girls
Heard a great story, minds set awhirl:
Gail proposes, “Let’s go off to Greece!” –
An idea that sat with me for a piece.
Then one day, we booked it! My first trip abroad!
My hubby was shocked and then gave me a nod
(A traveler to Europe, he certainly is not
He’s comfiier in a boat, fishing for trout)
But, oh the fine sites upon which we did gaze!
The streets of Athen, a wonderful maze!
Grapes leaves plump with rice and spiced meat!
Sweet baklava, what a wonderful treat!
Olives aplenty, ripe almost to busting!
Carafes of wine to slake all our thirsting!
Gail turned out the ideal companion
We ate Greece right up with reckless abandon!
Chuckled at tour-mates, an interesting bunch –
(one whined cuz she lacked Dr. Pepper for lunch;
Four were Canadian, warming eventually –
Our mutual Trump hatred dovetailed splendidly;
The Family of Four were unusual, too
One kid on his phone and one shy and withdrew;
A couple who honeymooned here from PA –
They were great fun companions during our stay;
And two traveling ladies who kept to themselves
And rarely came out of their rooms in hotels
To join us by pools to drink lots of wine) –
Still, Gail and I had the finest of times:
Parthenon, Corinth, and endless museums
The history of Greece seemed to stretch through the eons
Meteora boasts monasteries loaded with monks
Olympia, its marbles brooding in hunks
Stadiums in pieces, somewhat assembled
Weather-worn to echo what they once resembled.
And all of these sights made our bond even closer
And made me reflect I was so glad I’d chose her
To be my companion on first Europe journ,
Relishing when I’d be like to return!
Oh, Wendy! I have never been to Greece, but you really make me want to go. Terrific details in every line. Sounds like a terrific trip!
I am NOT envious. Not at all!
This is such a fun-filled romp through Greece! The rhyme is splendid, and I was smiling as I read. Cheers to great friends who make great traveling companions! I especially loved your description of all those in your tour group.
Wendy, I am so glad this prompt sent you back to look at the pictures and remember your Trip to Greece. I love, love, love your humor and witty comments. The one about your husband is quite relatable. Mine goes with me now because he doesn’t want to stay at home by himself. The food sounds amazing, and I’d go just for that; I could even trade it for wine 🙂 Your rhymes are fun too. Thank you, Wendy! It was a real treat 🙂
Good morning, Dear Friends, I am about to read your beautiful words, and while I was finishing up with my SI participants writing from the past two weeks, this little playful poem came to me:
The Best Ever
There is a wonderful little girl
Who’s the best companion of them all.
She sings and dances, twirls and swirls,
Paints, runs, performs, and loves to stroll.
This girl will answer any challenge call.
If you haven’t guessed it by now,
This is my granddaughter; she’s simply wow! 🙂
Awww, lovely!!! I look forward to writing today with everyone. Thank you for hosting!
Awww! I can just see this little girl enjoying all her travels with her grandma.
There is nothing like granddaughters to sing, dance, twirl and swirl and bring such joy!
Leilya,
I loved the painting of visualization with plenty of action! It made me think of a student I have who is seems to have the ambitious spirit of your granddaughter!
Once in a while I like to travel solo
What the heck? I figure, YOLO!
But it’s never as fun
Without my number one
As long as he doesn’t stick to me like Velcro!
Mo, I hear you! I, too, sometimes prefer solo., especially when meeting some girlfriends in other places is on the horizon. Love your final line and smiled at it recognizing my number one.
Mo, you are so funny. I enjoyed this, especially your honesty. 🤣
This made me laugh, Mo! I love it!
This is so fun! While it’s so great to have that safe and fun companion along, the Velcro-style can get annoying.
S-Gel 0.7 mm Sharpie
for there is
always
somethin
to write on
but never
somethin
to write with
___________________________________________
Another great prompt and mentor poem, Leilya! I love the love and reassurance in the final lines: “Still, somehow, wherever we roam, / With him every strange place feels home.”
Scott, love the title. It is crucial at times indeed to have something to write with, so for this reason, I always drop at least two pens in my smallest purse 🙂 Thank you!
I love this poem for the travel companion prompt. And the very specific mm of that gel Sharpie is perfect. This is why poem titles are craft.
Scott, I have brought home more pens and markers than any retired teacher will ever need. I hope to honor your words at some point in my life. The only markers I didn’t bring home were dry erase. 🤣
Yes!
Thank you Scott. I usually have something to write with, and nothing to write on. In the event I have both, I have nothing to write…oof!
Yes, yes, to a smooth gel pen, 0.7 is the perfect size. A perfect companion for a writer.
Leilya, I can hear the frustration of the speaker in this poem as they are trying to keep their travel partner on task. We’ve all been there. When I was much, much younger, I always wanted to go on a road trip with Hunter S. Thompson. It’s probably best I never did.
HST
There once was a writer named Hunter.
He was known as a belligerent confronter.
A road trip with him
Included some gin,
And an evening filled with his chunter.
Lol, Shaun! Thanks for introducing me to the word “chunter.” (And, I think, your road trip would have, likely, included much more than gin!)
Shaun, I think I’d, too, sigh with relief if such trip didn’t happen. No drunk, chuntering companions for me –lol. Thank you!
Gin. Yes. Perfect approach to this prompt and fabulous writing assignment for students for their choice resding or novel study to really get characterization. As for this Hunter fella. One night is enough, I think.
What an adventure this one would be. Likely the gin would have a great part to play! Makes me think of my adventures with my Scottish cousins with gin as a secret companion!
They’re a friend indeed
In a time of need
They offer care
In Shibuya Square
They comfort me
In the Arabian Sea
They keep me in motion
In the Indian Ocean
They’re my friend
In London’s West End
They stick around
In Puget Sound
They strengthen my core
In Singapore
They always stay
Despite what I say
They light my way
And they make me pay
Matt,
I love how each couplet transports us to an amazing destination. Some I recognize, others are now on my bucket list. Great poem!
Thanks Shaun, and all the best with your bucket list.
…and that last line! I was awwww, how nice. And the I chuckled out loud!
Thanks Gayle. I am glad you enjoyed the poem.
Matt, as you take me with “them” on a trip through different countries and continents, I am trying to guess your companions. I thought, they were Kindle (or Google) books, perhaps? But now I am thinking it’s your tennis shoes. Well done! Love the rhythm and rhyme of your couplets; it allows to move effortlessly from one destination to another.
Thank you for you kind comments. You are on the right track about my travel companion not being a person. My travel companion is a pack of cigarettes.
The rhyme adds such whimsy and the complete for offers white space to breathe between scenes in a way that is inviting for the reader, me, toward that evening end when the speaker is stuck with the check. Love an unexpected closing scene. Nice.
Thank you Sarah. My travel companion is a pack of cigarettes that “make me pay” physically and financially.
Matt,
I absolutely love this and how you find so many things to rhyme and make sense. I love the line “they always stay despite what I say” which is a true companion
Thanks you for your kind words about my rhyming scheme, Alicia.
Haha! Matt, I wasn’t expecting the ending. Great way to honor your friend and your travels.
Thanks Stacey. I am glad you got something out of that poem’s ending.
Matt, that was a lovely poem, and it made me think it was army related!
Close! It was Navy related. My travel companion and I went from port to port continuing our dysfunctional relationship.
Matt I love how the companion could be one person in each of those locations or one special companion in each place. I agree with Shaun that your lines teleport me across the globe!
Thanks Brian!
Matt,
This would work so well as a children’s book. I love the sense of adventure this poem takes you on. Well done!
Leilya, I’m smitten with your travel theme and am so grateful for your creative hosting this week to get us dreaming and wayfaring. I’m still at the poetry conference in Portland – – and took a coddiwomple over to Powell’s City of Books to get the book I’ve been waiting for months to be released last Tuesday – – a travel book, of sorts.
a Steinbeck-like is Lauren Hough
an author I would ask to go
to join my summer travel band
to see this Monster of a Land!
Thank you, Kim! I wanted this round to be less burdening with heavy topics–our lives are full of pain, grief, struggles, and challenges. This gives us a bit of a breathing room.
you chose such a great companion–books are always the best. I just looked it up and added to my list. Thank you for the suggestion!
Love this conference for poets for you and the group. Fantastic. Like you are the summer travel band of poets.
Kim, we just bought our niece (who lives in Portland) an e-gift card to Powell’s. She says she spends hours there. I’m envious…poetry conference, bookstore, new book – now that’s the way to travel!
Good morning! When I read Leila’s comforting poem about travel, I tried to come up with a suitable companion for my travels. My friends take trips with me with great bravery— perhaps foolishness. However, no humans have been injured in the process.
Luck
I would like to bring Luck with me while traveling.
Not Bad Luck or their cousin Unluck
(although they have accompanied me often).
Good. Luck.
Let me explain.
Traveling with me is never dull.
Over the years, it has included:
Raccoons mating in an attic overhead,
skunk spray under a deck,
flea infestations,
a white horse emerging from the fog on a dark highway
(not the desert variety),
a mouse crawling across my sleeping bag,
a blizzard in October,
a blizzard in May,
an iced bridge,
iced mountain peaks,
hurricane winds in a house on stilts,
airborne lightning storms (with a man detoxing on my right),
and shut down airports.
Would you like to join me on my next excursion?
I guarantee you will not be bored.
And could you bring your friend Lucky with you? The Good one.
Not Bad Luck.
It’s probably a good move on your part.
Or maybe you should just stay home…
Gayle Sands
6/21/26
Your poem is so relatable because its applicable to so many settings. Buffalo, NY – St. Paul, MN – Billings, MT – most of Canada. And that’s just North America. Your poem has universality.
Adorable. The good one. Not the bad one. Such a clever take on this topic, Gayle. Made me smile, smile.
Oh, Gayle, I would laugh it it weren’t so sad, to say the least. If I am traveling alone, I usually get stuck at some airport for hours or end up with a canceled flight. The other things normally go okay. Now, “a white horse emerging from the fog on a dark highway” may not be as bad if you can see it a few seconds earlier. I’d still join you, and maybe together, we’ll change it to Good Luck. 🙂
Gayle, these travel memories of yours made me LOL! Oh my! The mouse scurrying across your sleeping bag would have signaled the end of my trip…and the white horse is pretty chilling. I really enjoyed your spin on today’s prompt.
Love this!
You got me again, Leilya, to write about a family member. Oh well! I’m glad they are positive!
Lovely Loving Trips!
Traveling with my daughter, Roz
To Europe, Africa, and Scandinavia
What a blast we have!
Traveling with my daughter, Roz
Has given me joy because
She takes good care of me.
For business, she gets to ride first class
And, occasionally she gives me a pass
To ride up there with her.
At hotels, better rooms we get
Not because I’m her pet,
But, because of her award points.
We’ve stayed at some really nice joints.
Traveling with Roz, I’m confessing
Has truly been a blessing.
For her acts of love,
I give thanks to God above.
Indeed. Such a blessing to have all these experiences with your daughter. Hopefully she let’s you in first class every trip going forward!
Another lovely, loving, caring, family poem, Anna! I agree: “Traveling with Roz, I’m confessing / Has truly been a blessing.” Love your rhyme and movement through stanzas, as always.
Anna, this was so heartwarming! It’s so nice to hear about your travels with your daughter and how well you get along.
How fun, Leilya!
Next to Me
You next to me
will always be
what I want.
On a bus,
in a car,
on a plane,
on a train…
by your side
as your guide
will always be
what I want.
I feel safe
I have fun
I wouldn’t want
to be with anyone
else.
You speed me up;
I slow you down.
I navigate;
You drive around.
You are the yin
to my yang
with every little thang
we do.
On the short trips
or the long
I can never go wrong
with you next to me.
~Susan Ahlbrand
21 June 2026
Susan— love the love in this. “I can never go wrong with you next to me”.
That is such a loving tribute to your life companion, Susan! I especially love the sound in “by your side
as your guide
will always be”
You found your person for life; that’s a blessing. Thank you!
Susan, as you’ve probably noticed in the poems we’re written here over the years, we often use similar imagery. I wish I had thought of this one yestetrday, but I appreciate seeing it today in your poem.
You are the yin
to my yang
with every little thang
we do.
For multiple reasons, it is true for me, too, and I love seeing you use the slang of thang!
What fun!
Love the dialect of “thang” here and the sense of strong companionship that complements each other.
Leilya, I love you limerick. I can so relate to how unrushed your husband is. Mine doesn’t plan the trips, so he doesn’t take on my anxiety over getting to the gate early.
I have never been very good at limericks, but really wanted to try one today. When we take family vacations, the boys (especially my son-in-law) love to play on my fear of snakes. On our recent trip, I came to expect their snake antics.
There once was a time I feared snakes
even when clearly they were fakes
On family vacation
imagine boys’ frustration
when I just laughed at my mistake.
This is really funny, Margaret! It brought to me a memory of fake snakes, one that my husband would hang inside the hood of the car so that when you opened it, it would hang out. Yeek!
Love this!
Margaret, this is a funny one. I am afraid of snakes, too, and would, probably, jump at the sight of the fake one. Good thing you know your son-in-law and his tricks.
I hate snakes too!!!! and my family finds it funny to trick me with fake ones
Margaret, the belly laugh that I had when I read the last line – – oh, those boys will be boys! They can’t get the best of you.
Leilya, we learn to love (and become vexed by) the idiosyncracies of those we spend the most time with. That you know this habit so well attests to the time you’ve spent together. The pattern of the limerick highlights your unexpected reveal for readers while conveying the expected as only you would know it. (There can never be too many snacks for the road!)
House Guests, Fish, and…
These last five days I’ve not journeyed alone.
His arrival caused quite a groan.
A companion attached,
his presence unmatched,
Please move on, you damn kidney stone.
Ugh! Kidney stones are the worst!
I really enjoyed your rhyming scheme
Ooooh! 🫣
Oh, Jennifer, that companion of yours is not just annoying; it’s a real pain. Hope you find some remedy soon. Hugs!
I love this poem and yes kidney stones hurt!!!!
Jennifer, I’ve had kidney stone on 8 different occasions…what HORRIBLE traveling companions. I’m hoping your stone goes on his merry way soon so you can have some relief.
Jennifer,
This made me laaaugh! Hope your houseguest is gone soon!
Amazing that you are able to function enough to write this and find humor!
Noooooo! Oh, Jennifer. My prayers that this passes soon.
My Companion
You are a social butterfly
together there isn’t a dry eye
we are so funny
when together we are so runny
your patience is so high
Alicia, to find a partner with patience is one of the best gifts. Your appreciation for the compatability between the two of you rings clear through every line. The movement from the singular you to your togetherness in much of the poem highlights the strength of the relationship.
I chuckled at “together we are so runny.”
Alicia, this is so sweet! It’s truly a blessing to have your companion to be “a social butterfly.” On a second note, being patient might be even a better gain. Double lucky you are! Thank you for writing.
Alicia, I appreciate your “social butterfly” simile! But even more so, the fact that you switch POV to “we”.! That pulls the two of you together, but then you suggest there may be some tension even in fun times! That’s so often the case for “companions” that being able to write about it is an emotional release for you and a sense of camaraderie for those, like me, who sometimes experience the same! Thanks for sharing!
I often do songwriting while hiking.
Kevin
Sometimes, I’ll take a new song
as my hiking companion,
a voice in my head only
I can hear
It’s best in rhythm,
the motion of walking
synchronized to the beat
of my ear
I’ll work out the rhymes,
the rhythm of lines,
I’ll put the song on repeat before
it all disappears
Later, upon returning
to the place where I’d been walking,
I hear the echoes of melody:
the song lives there
Oh, Kevin, song is a great companion. You are so true to your music soul. Love the final stanza; it reminds me of Longfellow’s “An Arrow and a Song” poem’s ending.
Kevin, it always amazes me what can be worked out through a walk – plot structures, worries, comebacks to previous conversations… Your connection between the motion of walking and the rhythm of songwriting works beautifully. And I love that your return echoes melodies. It reminds me of revisiting a childhood home.
Kevin, I love how the song lives on in the place where you were walking. Do you speak into Notes or take a pencil and notepad with you? My Notes app doesn’t always understand the words I say and I get home and read something funny, not at all what I was thinking.
Kevin,
You created the image and rhythm of walking and the song so well. It reminded me of long, morning walks to school and creating unheard melodies as I stared at the sidewalk. I wish we had the technology back then to record those moments of inspiration.
To be able to compose while hiking–and to keep it all in your head–is impressive. I love talking to/listening to myself while traveling, but I never attempt to make sense of anything or recall it.
Kevin,
This is so beautiful:
Vecinos Molestos (Annoying Neighbors)
Give me El Taladro, the rock-penetrating drill
flecking Roman walls through the streets.
My dear, Italy, can you take back El Porculero,
the brute slinging slurs at dawn on speaker,
throwing tantrum-beats through honeycombed
dwellings, ringing peace from wrought-iron
balconies, an unwanted duet with Pablo’s
guitar. O, Barcelona, of tattooed bodies,
futbol graffitied store fronts, Chilean poets’
verse floating from helicopters into hands! I
fear my love will turn to fisticuffs with El
Porculero today, pounding in Lingua Franca
Silencios! Prayers today, the signal between
fed-up neighbors rest in walls not to cross
our thresholds. From poems falling from
Plaça Nova skies, I take note, crafting
Spano-Italian letters to slip under Porculero’s
door asking for quiet. Neruda said poetry
is an act of peace, after all.
Interesting article about noisy neighbor LAWS in Spain.
Seriously, Dan almost knocked on our neighbor’s door today to tell him to shut the F up. It was intense!
Sarah
The condensing of text in your poem gives it a tense, angry, frustrated tone — and then there are those poems falling from skies. I imagine the flutter.
Kevin
Sarah, first, I am sorry about the El Porculero neighbors; it is quite annoying (vecinos from vex, vexing?) I love your use of Spanish to name negative experiences. This poem is taking care of you today. I hope your words in a note will help establish peace and quiet with neighbors. Neruda was a wise man.
As the article say, maybe they just don’t realize how loud they are 🙂
Well, the good news is that you may have found the best place to retire once your hearing goes bad (surprised to see Japan has a higher level of noise, considering their culture of respecting others). Your poem highlights why living in a culture is so important to learning its language – you’ll never forget the word taladro in relation with the experience (just as freins became so important to me while driving in Quebec). Sending good thoughts that your note will work – if not, perhaps convincing the helicopter pilot to focus on poems themed around quiet might send a message from the gods.
Sarah, ugh, noisy neighbors are the worst! I’m sorry you two have to deal with this. I love, however, your poem about it, your apostrophe pleading with Barcelona, she of the “tattooed bodies, / futbol graffitied store fronts, Chilean poets’ / verse floating from helicopters into hands!” And thank you for introducing me to “the bombing of poems”! I had never heard of that. (That would seem to be a lot of pressure for the verse, lol.) I hope your “note” helps, too. (And I love the Neruda reminder at the end: “poetry / is an act of peace, after all.” Amen to that.)
Sarah, I felt that the loose, free verse form really underscored the cacophony that the poem conveyed. This was lovely.
Sarah, I’m not laughing, but the way you put this is so humorous that I can sense the passion of Pablo and the stringed notes falling on resistant ears
an unwanted duet with Pablo’s
guitar.
And that final line drives home the peace of silence – – and the need for poetry. I have found that when I travel, I forget the quiet of home on the farm. And then there are sirens wailing and horns beeping and trains. Trains. Trains. But I love the immersion in other cultures…….and there is peace in bookstores. I am feeling your need for quiet today, my friend!