Winter Is Coming Poem by Harry Bryant

When leaves are falling, and grass has turned brown,
it won't be long till the snow is coming down,
with the ground all white as pure as can be,
it is a pleasurable sight to those that can ski,
I look out the window at the new falling snow,
my mind harkens back, to a long time ago
I dig out the skis, skates and the sled,
grab the coat, mittens and hat for my head,
away to the slopes for a full day of fun,
I hope that I make it down that ski run,
the first time is shaky, the second is fine,
thought I had forgotten, but I remembered in time,
just how to turn on those long pointy slabs,
until I learned, my life was up for grabs,
do the snow plow to slow yourself down,
just follow the trails, like a road map to town,
the season progresses and so does my nerve,
heading downhill with a slip, slide and swerve,
down at the bottom, I head for the lodge,
but stop at the club house, it is just a dodge,
drink some hot chocolate, then shoot the breeze,
just standing around to relax my knees,
scoping the crowd for some sexy young girls,
with pretty blue eyes, and long golden haired curls,
the evenings for dancing and the wiener roasts too,
just being together, just me and you,
that is where I met you, oh wife of mine,
our life has been fruitful, delightful, devine,
we brought up our children to skate and to ski,
to enjoy the winter, just like you and like me,
but now my mind takes on a terrible doubt,
if it keeps snowing, I must shovel it out.