Conclusion

Remember that post about the poem called "A Day on Da Slope"? Well, as it turns out, that was only half the poem, and Hannah gave me the rest. So, if you want to finish the exiting story, here it is...

A few minutes more, I look around,
Sven is gone, he can't be found.
I ski on down, he's not een sight,
I veel so bad about our fight.
Suddenly, anoda svoosh,
I'm sprayed veeth sloppy, snovy moosh.
I look around, and straight below,
A snowboarder, down he goes!
As my teeth clench, and my face turns red,
I veesh so bad to heet 'is head.
He slides so fast, then heets a tree,
He lies there pitiful to see.
My meanest thoughts I throw aside,
I ski down, svallowing my pride.
I think that he veell be okay,
No more snowboarding for today.
I qvick ski down ta tell da folks,
Dees fella's leg, it ain't no joke.
They load 'im up und take him down,
Und then remembering, I frown.
Cousin Sven steell can't be found.
I glide down to da Outpost,
Und vhat do you tink I see?
Sven! Und he sitting, sipping 'is coffee!

Vell, dat's da end of da poem! I sertainly 'ope ya liked it!

A Funny Poem...

I know I've been lacking subjects to write about, but yesterday I found something while cleaning out my room (not my favorite thing to do) that's a change in subjects. You might remember this one, Hannah; you wrote it. I hope you don't mind. :) So, here it is:


A Day on Da Slope

Last Januvary, ven eet vas very few degree,
My volks und vamily, ve go ov ta ski.
Ve ski Beeg Mountain, eet qvite surprising be.
Like our beloved Alpines in dee olt country.
Vee geet our passes, tack them on,
Then vee go to geet our gear.
Me cousins study hard da map
Of how ta geet around here.
Ve make our plan, vind lift, hop on,
Ve know eet vill be lot of fun.
Een pairs ve go, I ride vith cousin Sven,
He talk and talk da whole ride up,
I veesh for earplugs then.
Ve geet to top, vun trail looks nice,
But Sven won't go, und ve geet inta fight.
He says my trail's good,
But Bighorn better still.
He tells me chust ta take a look,
My head begins ta reel.
As I look down da precipice,
Veeth mogul und tree vell,
I start ta think dat cousin Sven,
He is qvite dumbell.
Ve chose a trail called Grey Wolf,
Eet look like eet be fun.
Eet turned out to be an
Eenteresting one.


Yea, I know it's very unusual and...different, but at least it was something worth posting about. For about five minutes after I read this poem, my mind thinks Sveedish-like, and it be hard to talk regular. Hope you enjoyed it!