Positioned down under an eagle’s flight,
On the ground but yet a lofted sight,
High upon a mountain top as upward seen,
The finishing touch completes a winter’s theme.
The snow capped peaks among the azure skies,
An artist’s dream portrayed before the eyes,
Yet the snow starts to loosen under winter’s hold,
As avalanches form as the seasons unfold.
A picturesque journey down the mountain side,
A romp among the trees in a perilous glide,
A warning to all to clear out below,
Thou art so beautiful, but yet you are snow.
You decorated the hills and inspire the artist,
But unleash your wiles that do still exist.
You are an avalanche, wherever you slide.