Snow covered mountains are my favorite ones to see,
As the altitude rises a few thousand feet,
My ears begin to pop,
But that doesn't stop,
The enjoyment of the beauty of the mountain top.
I've heard that in Ouray,
Snow can last well into the month of May,
Perfect for skiing everyday.
Mountains so tall, mountains so high,
Every time we drive through, I sigh,
Wondering if people ever notice the kind,
Of beauty that's around them all of the time.
Learn more about this author, Elizabeth Wrobel.
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by P Vandegrift
Their jagged silhouettes cut into the horizon
like an endless puzzle,
the pieces ever changing
yet never moving
challenging
In autumn's golden sheen
rise their slopes' ancient stones.
And during spring's rains I've been
searching for my ancestor's
Briskly cold air filling my lungs
as I tap into the mountain side, another set of rungs
Climbing higher feeling the pain
of
by Jasmine Snow
I climbed to the top of the mountain to find the one that shared with me his stories of rugged lands.
Let me feel the sun
Once I was a god.
Man prayed to me,
Man worshiped me,
Man feared me,
Though I am but rock and sod.
Then I was a lump.
Man trod
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Poetry: The mountains
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