**The Downhill Dream** ©
                       By Artemis Quill 2024


In the crisp embrace of winter's breath,
Where pine trees sigh and whisper of death,
There dwells a soul, a spirit unbound,
Warren, the ski bum, on powder he’s found.

With each sharp turn on the snow-kissed slate,
His heart races faster, defying all fate.
The frost-biting air, a lover's embrace,
He carves through the silence, finds solace in grace.

For two snowy years, he’s honed every glide,
A passion ignited, with courage as guide.
He dreams of the Juggernauts, fearless and wild,
A team that conquers, like a charge of a child.

Every morning he wakes, while the world’s fast asleep,
To dance with the mountain, the secrets to keep.
He trains through the storms, through the sun’s golden
gleam,
For glory awaits him, is it folly or dream?

With sweat on his brow, resolve in his heart,
He promises fiercely—he’ll play his best part.
Each race down the hill is a prayer on the wind,
For the joy of the chase, his spirit rescinds.

The echoes of laughter, the cheers in the air,
He closes his eyes, envisioning there—
The flags of the world, the thrill of the chase,
As the Downhill Juggernauts gather in grace.

So let the winds carry this vow far and wide,
For Warren, the ski bum, has nothing to hide.
With courage as compass, and zeal as his shield,
He’ll race down the mountain, his fate is revealed.

In the heart of his hope, in the chill of the thrill,
He sees the world’s beauty, his dreams to fulfill.
For in every descent, like a bird in its flight,
Warren finds happiness, and the promise of light