Bobsleds | Teen Ink


September 12, 2010
By AbstractFragment GOLD, Dalmatia,, Pennsylvania
AbstractFragment GOLD, Dalmatia,, Pennsylvania
18 articles 0 photos 22 comments

Favorite Quote:
"You know what it feels like when all your teeth are falling out really slowly and you don't realize and then you notice that, well, they're really far apart. And then one day... you don't have any teeth anymore." - Where the Wild Things Are

Ringing bells
In the church
On the hill

Children on
Riding down

I wish I was one of them

In their parkas
And fuzzy bobble hats

Ringing bells
In the church
On the hill

On bobsleds
Riding down

Blowing in their hair

Oh., they just don't care
They go where they dare
And do, as they please

With their parkas
Fuzzy bobble hats
And woolen mittens

Snowmen and snowballs
Carrot nose, and ice fort
A charcoal frown face
And a corn cob pipe

The stove pipe hat
Goes blowing off in the wind

And the children
Chase it down,
The street
On their speedy bobsleds

And in their chase
They find an icy wonderland

Down the hill
From the church

They find an old cold wizard
Who teachers them
How to dig tunnels

In the snow,
They live like smooth faced dwarves
Bundled up like plush penguins
In their caverns

Smiling, giggling, dancing

They make swords
Out of icicles
And spar under the big pine tree

They tie their hat strings
To make helmets
And with extra coats
And sticks
They make flags for their empire

And as the sun sets
Their parents call them home
And they rest in their beds
With hot cocoa
And head filled with adventure

And they leave behind their fort,
Alone aside from their snowman sentry
Unguarded it stands
As they drag their bobsleds home,
The church bell rings eight.


In the morn'
They race through their breakfasts
And all the children dart to their coats

Off to the hilltop church
They meet

In their parkas
Fuzzy bobble hats
Warm wooly mittens
And scratchy scarves

Ringing bells
In the church
On the hill

On bobsleds
Riding down

Down, towards their empire

And they all stand

Mouths agape

Shocked and in horror

For, where the fort stood
There is nothing but a pile
Of snow

Flags toppled down,
Tunnels, crushed and collapsed
Their snowman sentry beheaded
And his nose nibbled into

Their stash in their snowball arsenal stolen
And beastly footsteps lead scrabbled
All over the fallen fort
And they lead to and from the forest

All of their jaws, on the floor
They take of their hats
And from the children steps forward a leader
He gives a rousing speech

And as he speaks and shouts
Slowly the flushed red returns
To the children's cheeks
As he finishes his speech
He raises an ice spear
And proposes a plan

Half of the children follow him into the woods,
The strongest and bravest

And half stay, and rebuild their fort
The more dexterous and clever

The hunters take their spears, slingshots and a dog into the woods
The builders get their shovels, and they summon the tall wizard
they trample through the forest, cold air inhaled into their lungs
as the builders dig, and build; exhaling hot steamy breath into the air
and the hunters are going in circles
as one of the fortress towers collapse
but the dog picks up the right trail
and the builders pick up their shovels, and keep building

The hunters come back,
Fruitless but determined,
Their faces scrunched,
But their eyes tired
From their
Game of pursuit

They return
And find a castle
In place of their collapsed fort

Bigger and more beautiful
Ornate, and carved and made of ice
Improved in every way
Right down to the front gate
And the tower defenses

Inside the fort they celebrate
And toast with hot chocolate

They dance and they smile
Even the wizard, who was too tall
But still stood in the courtyard

And they dance and skip about,
Until their parents called them home
And the church bell rung eight

They pull their bobsleds home
Faces smug and sure
That no one and nothing
Could touch their castle


In the morn'
They race through their breakfasts
And baths
To their coats
And out the door

But all the land was strange and green
And they dragged their bobsleds
Through the mucky, muddy grass

At the hilltop they met
And they walked down the hill
To the castle
But all that remained
Was a dirty pile of snow
In the wet green grass

And they stood

And kicked their feet anxiously


Of what to play next

The author's comments:
Inspired by my childhood memories of winter.

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This article has 1 comment.

on Jul. 4 2013 at 9:59 am
bookmouse BRONZE, Chapel Hill, North Carolina
1 article 90 photos 251 comments
Cute topic and nice flow!