The city skyline at dusk appears, The historic square where time adheres. The cobblestone streets with stories old, The local guide’s tales so bold. The mountain trek begins to climb, The scenic routes take away time. The lake reflects the sunset’s glow, The campground’s tent where dreams will grow. The boarding gate with people near, The pilot’s voice is calm and clear. The ferry’s horn sounds through the mist, A voyage like this can’t be missed. Tripsteps takes me far and wide, Through forests, beaches, and countryside. Each word I learn expands my view, The world is waiting, bright and new. The postcard racks in the market stall, The currency notes, I count them all. The travel journal fills with words, Each journey’s magic must be heard.