slidesomeice
Member
My lit teacher gave us extra credit if we rewrote the poem so I of course chose skiing.
Thought itd be cool to share.
‘Twas the Night Before my Ski
Trip
‘Twas the night before my ski
trip and all through the house,
The thoughts of fresh snow flakes
flourished arouse.
Everyone was excited for the next
day to come,
But my mom was still packing, oh
what a bum.
My stuff was already, packed, sitting
to go,
In hopes that I was not the only
one so.
I had my skis in one hand and
poles in another,
Sitting around still waiting for my
mother.
I then placed the skis in the
trunk,
Along with a few bags of junk.
I had done everything I can to
help get a goin’
Yet my mother still was not ready,
my rage started growin’.
The weather outside was 50
degrees,
I live in New Jersey, there truly
lacks cold breeze.
I’ll get in my car to drive a
long way,
In hopes that elsewhere some snow
might lay.
But first to my friend’s house,
gather him and his stuff
Everyone has pictures stuck in
their mind of good ol’ white fluff.
I could be going out west but the
money is tight,
So we head up north and skip out
on the flight.
The drive some find long,
I don’t mind, pass the time with
a song.
We head to the lodge, a great
place to stay,
There are plenty of friends
around, a game of poker we’ll play.
I can’t wait till tomorrow, where
on the mountains I’ll be,
Skiing around, yeah it’s much
better the Glee.
Wake up in the morning before the
sun rises,
I look out the window and see the
best of surprises.
Two feet of fresh snow had fallen
last night,
Good thing I’m up early, beating
the massive crowds might.
We contemplate which mountain be
best, better than the rest,
Stratton or Killington I don’t know
which to conquest.
There isn’t much I know that’s better
than heaven,
But skiing’s damn close, I’d give
it 7 out of 7.
Get on that first chair lift, all
up and about,
There’s not much in the world
that could give us a pout.
Everyone clipped in their
bindings, of course Ryan is last,
Snowboards can’t navigate flats,
they’re just stuck in the past.
3 of us ride on 2 planks, the way
we choose best.
Strolling down the mountain, cold
air in my chest.
Willie called Ryan and Ryan
called Matt,
Mark had just spotted for a trail
call Big Pat.
Down the slope and into the glade
we ski,
Pop a 360 and avoid every tree.
Under, over, around each part of
the wood,
If it were not for school, ski every
day, we should.
Flying down the mountain, fast as
can be,
I wish that good things like
skiing came free.
There’s nothing quite like making
turns in the snow,
Turning around only your tracks
for show.
It’s like being super human with
goodness strapped to our feet,
Skiing must be experienced, so quit
being boring and get off your seat.
After a day out, we are all done
and tired,
With thoughts of the next day, more
days on the slope desired.
The drive back to lodge is mellow
and calm,
Ending the night with steeze in a
bomb.
Thought itd be cool to share.
‘Twas the Night Before my Ski
Trip
‘Twas the night before my ski
trip and all through the house,
The thoughts of fresh snow flakes
flourished arouse.
Everyone was excited for the next
day to come,
But my mom was still packing, oh
what a bum.
My stuff was already, packed, sitting
to go,
In hopes that I was not the only
one so.
I had my skis in one hand and
poles in another,
Sitting around still waiting for my
mother.
I then placed the skis in the
trunk,
Along with a few bags of junk.
I had done everything I can to
help get a goin’
Yet my mother still was not ready,
my rage started growin’.
The weather outside was 50
degrees,
I live in New Jersey, there truly
lacks cold breeze.
I’ll get in my car to drive a
long way,
In hopes that elsewhere some snow
might lay.
But first to my friend’s house,
gather him and his stuff
Everyone has pictures stuck in
their mind of good ol’ white fluff.
I could be going out west but the
money is tight,
So we head up north and skip out
on the flight.
The drive some find long,
I don’t mind, pass the time with
a song.
We head to the lodge, a great
place to stay,
There are plenty of friends
around, a game of poker we’ll play.
I can’t wait till tomorrow, where
on the mountains I’ll be,
Skiing around, yeah it’s much
better the Glee.
Wake up in the morning before the
sun rises,
I look out the window and see the
best of surprises.
Two feet of fresh snow had fallen
last night,
Good thing I’m up early, beating
the massive crowds might.
We contemplate which mountain be
best, better than the rest,
Stratton or Killington I don’t know
which to conquest.
There isn’t much I know that’s better
than heaven,
But skiing’s damn close, I’d give
it 7 out of 7.
Get on that first chair lift, all
up and about,
There’s not much in the world
that could give us a pout.
Everyone clipped in their
bindings, of course Ryan is last,
Snowboards can’t navigate flats,
they’re just stuck in the past.
3 of us ride on 2 planks, the way
we choose best.
Strolling down the mountain, cold
air in my chest.
Willie called Ryan and Ryan
called Matt,
Mark had just spotted for a trail
call Big Pat.
Down the slope and into the glade
we ski,
Pop a 360 and avoid every tree.
Under, over, around each part of
the wood,
If it were not for school, ski every
day, we should.
Flying down the mountain, fast as
can be,
I wish that good things like
skiing came free.
There’s nothing quite like making
turns in the snow,
Turning around only your tracks
for show.
It’s like being super human with
goodness strapped to our feet,
Skiing must be experienced, so quit
being boring and get off your seat.
After a day out, we are all done
and tired,
With thoughts of the next day, more
days on the slope desired.
The drive back to lodge is mellow
and calm,
Ending the night with steeze in a
bomb.
