ode to skiing

o beautiful the purple mountains rise,
in your ski slopes i love to spend my time.
early i wake, my sleep is compromised;
i drive along as the roads gently climb.

no blizzard or wreck will keep me away;
i'll wait in traffic, sip a hot coffee.
"god, get me safely to the slopes", i pray,
at last arriving at The Park to ski.

the snow falls down, it's only eight degrees;
three pairs of pants, gloves, jacket and a hat,
wind blows fiercely, hands, feet, and face will freeze.
up, up the hill where ground will not be flat.

crisp mountain air, the smell of evergreens,
bright blue sky, peaks as far as you can see.
"no other place can have such lovely scenes,
than the rocky mountains!", i scream with glee.

my legs give out, they're tired of all the turns,
back sore, lips chapped, knees torn, my body aches.
i gasp for air my lungs begin to burn,
i'll ski dawn to dusk no matter what it takes.

warm in the car, after a day well spent;
back down the hill, home to a well-cooked meal.
i will be back soon, this is my intent.
to spend life on the slopes, this would be ideal!

o beautiful the purple mountains rise,
in your ski slopes i love to spend my time.
i dream of skiing as my body lies,
tired and spent after a day sublime.