Bold plastic carves a serpent in the snow,
Which hisses with the cadence of a dance,
As Teddy, Joan and Alex, head to toe,
Bulk up in armor from the cold romance.
With twists and turns they cross the solid seas,
With sharpened blades they slice the frozen foe,
These arms and heroes beat the mountain breeze,
Through woods bereft of roads but all aglow.
They taste the fruits of centuries of toil,
The seed of innovation sprouts the tree,
As industry plows through the fertile soil,
Thus men serve others, so that they can ski.
Such glory girds the noble bourgeoisie,
Pursuing future cups, they taste the sea.
-Tyler William O'Neil
-March 31, 2010