Thursday, January 15, 2009

Canadian Identity Poem





White rolling hills
covered with pristine snow
a never ending carpet
on top of everything i saw.

Plains which were once green
had now changed to white
and a freezing cold wind 
soared above.

Going into the woods
the winds were stopped
by the green and white collosi
guarding at the door.

Up on the mountain
the trees marked a path
going up the side
i heard the roar

An enourmous wave
came rolling down the side
and all the mighty trees
were easily taken down

After the disaster
one would see in awe
at the beauty and the silence
that reigned above the snow




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