journal - 22

In the winter we like to go sledding

An escape from school, which we are dreading

The mountain of snow is a perfect scene

Of the white winter that is so serene

The boys and the girls all young in their hearts

Run to the sledding hill when the snow starts

So innocent and pure is their laughter

The fun of the sledding is seen soon after

zooming down the hill the at the speed of light

The children do rejoice when they take flight

And CRASH go their sleds into a big tree

The children spring back up shouting with glee

When they get tired they plop to the ground

Forming angels in the snow, without sound

Way up and down the big hill they do trek

Waiting for their turn to have their sled wreck

Up the immense hill, the children must climb

It seems to get bigger every time

Jumping and wading in the fluffy snow

Back home is not where they do want to go

But when it gets dark and they go back home

Hot cocoa is there to sip off the foam

Dragging and moping off into their beds

The thoughts of sledding repeats in their heads

Sleep comes quickly, as their mothers assumed

Rest they must get for the sledding presumed