poem001

One day came a breeze in a meadow at night,
That brought on a deep cold full of fright,
So dark and So damp,
It lurked and it ran,
Over the grass covered nulls and tree laden  hills.
as it spread throughout the low topped hills,
and swept across the grand green trees,
it reminded those in its path of the coming seasons.

It reminded the squirrel to eat while it can,
It pushed the dear to wrap up its mating at last,
Then left as quick as it came,
Leaving the meadows alive for a short span.

At last the meadow so sullen and silent,
became home for the weather to do what it shall,
With no brown tailed bird and only a stub for  a plant,
It dropped a blanket on the brown hills.

It then came and pounded the land,
With a vast amount of snow so grand,
Large game who now own the forest,
Can have a hearty try at their long awaited harvest,
Preying on mice that hide away,
Eating bone and meat the same.

On the creek valley floor a figure moved,
It seemed so alone but still not removed,
While it roamed through lonely willow filled meadows,
The mice ran away so scared underneath,
Trying to still stay snug in their burrows.

But they would and could never know,
That what roamed above on the carpet of snow,
Was not wanting to have at them for a snack,
It only wanted to have that first-place plaque.

At the end of the valley was a large town square,
A stand and microphone and a statue of a bear,
It lit up the night and welcomed its share,
Of people in large fur coats and brown fleece ware,
Who watched the people dogsledding to the square.

With magnificent ease and plenty of swag,
A team of five and no one in sight,
The first came in with a bark and a wag,
To a cheer from the crowd and a bang from the band.

Over the hill came the second team,
On top of the sled sat a wool covered guy,
He laughed at the sight of his rival's golden metal,
For he knew deep down that only a miniscule sliver,
Was covered in gold that mattered.

When third arrived in the darkening town square,
A judge, king, and artist were there,
To cheer for the one who lacked his share,
Of dogs and training to see the crowd there.

The team didn't care,
For the bronze, they knew it was for them,
And the other shiny metals that glittered so bright,
Weren't near as special as that team-building night.

A long ways away struggled the fourth placed team,
There were no cheers to be heard or waves to be seen,
The crowd had dispersed near an hour before,
But neither the leader, nor his dogs cared.

For them and the rest who struggled to that square,
None of them knew that the first place team had a loud fair,
They were happy where they ended up and proud to be who they were,
Untainted by societies abrupt call for the winner.

I ask of whoever reads these lines,
That you remember who you are,
You may not be the first-place team,
But be happy with who you are to be,
For your journey is worth a thousand golds.