Sara's Original Poems
Snow, ice, freezing rain All that shoveling's such a pain-- Puts my body in a strain. Here it comes, here it comes, After snow comes bright, blue sun, All that snow is such good fun. Huck those cliffs on that sick run.
At lower elevations, At the beginning of my journey, I am captivated by A cacophony of colors. The trail winds its way Next to a heavy-flowing stream. This path should’ve been named “Waterfall Way.” As time goes on, the path gets steeper And rougher. Further up, towards the top of the trail, Tons of coniferous trees Let the light shine bright. Little orange needles litter the path. I could take other trails To higher elevations, But up there it snowed, And I think I should head back Because silly Sara Didn’t bring her snowshoes Or any other winter gear. I’m happy with my little hike To Brad’s Bluff, Lila’s Ledge, Crystal Cascades, And Lowe’s Bald Spot; No need for the 5,000’ mountaintops. Not today, anyway.
I like the roads where the trees Make a canopy over the route. I like the journey that makes me feel Lost, but not a scary lost: a Lost that says “let’s explore our way Out of here.” I like the trails that bring me to Where flowers grow, but trees don’t. I like my summits windy, and I like my parking areas muddy. I like my life wild out there, And peaceful in my head. I like this little corner of the world Known as the White Mountains. Yeah, I like it just like this.
Free the Verse 