Skiing Poems

Your curving shape, it calls to everyone.

A perfect par-a-bola is your form,

And yet your love I never need when warm.

When I’m with you I always have such fun.

I’ll stay with you I’ll never let you run.

I’ll take you with me to my college dorm.

I know my love for you is not the norm.

I need you more than sky, or snow, or sun.

I wax my skis before the winter chill,

And stow them clean and close beside my bed.

I’ll never let them be defiled by Jed.

If silly sonnets make your soul feel ill,

Then suck it up and read Sir Sidney’s stuff,

He doesn’t fear that fruity, frilly, fluff.