Skiing down the snowy mountain
Snow cascading like a fountain
Casued by all the nasty spills
Of clumsy skiiers, black diamond hills.

Moguls three and four feet high
Like nipples reaching towards the sky.
Bumps to ski on, trip on, fall.
Obstacles of danger's call.

Real steep slopes that make you stumble
Like an avalanche you'll rumble.
Picking speed up more and more
As towards the cliff's edge, you do soar.

My oh my, you're in the air
Hope that you do better fair
Than the skiiers in a mound
Below you, stacked on frozen ground.

© 2002, Michael Yanovich. www.mentalsnot.com