A Gift Given Me

 For Verne F. Champlin

My grandfather who worked for the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation as an accountant, he had Gore, Whiteface and Belleayre Mountains as his accounts. He filled my Childhood Dreams with Mountains of Snow.

 

 

 

A Gift Given Me

 

One Day,

at the base of Whiteface Mountain

I thought of someone special and

about a gift he’d given me.

 

I ascended swiftly into a silver silken sea

in a crystal vision Mother Mary came to me.

She whispered to me softly,

words to sooth my fear.

I soared so gracefully

far above the timberline.

I descended slowly only

after I had picked my line

down among the emerald pines.

 

One Day,

at the base of Whiteface Mountain

I thought of someone special about a gift he’d given me.

 

Written for the shortening of Chair Six of Whiteface Mountain for the 1980 Winter Olympics.

 

 

Chair Six

 

Oh! carousel of well worn

blue wooden chairs ascend me swiftly

upon the summit of your face.

Stark, lonely, loving, longing,

fair milk maiden’s lips

forever locked, granite windswept cheeks

ominous in your blue ice

laden grace.

 

Teeth chattering trembling fear

your North winds wailing,

searching, searing, stiff

frozen denim jeans.

The smell of

wet grey woolen ponchos.