It snowed yesterday, on  the Troodos mountains;

everything was frozen, including some fountains.

It was well below zero but the kids did not care;

they sledged and they skied in the rarefied air.


On Mount Olympus there are four ski slopes

on which young beginners can learn the ropes

but it was far too late for an old fogey like me

who of downhills or slaloms is not a devotee.


So my friend and I went to a mountain bothy

to savour chocolate that was hot and frothy.

Inside the log cabin and away from the snow

we sat by a warm fire and felt a nice glow.


© Luigi Pagano 2017


© ionicus 2023
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Warming poetry, Luigi. Your poem brought back memories of when I was a callow young soldier learning to ski in the Bavarian end of the alps… way back when. After the first couple of days instruction, us hapless squaddies were still only able to shuffle hesitantly down the gentlest of slopes. The local wizz kids went flying passed us shouting, ‘Onderlay, onderlay, onderlay!’ I’d fallen down for the umpteenth time and was sitting dejectedly in the snow with skis and legs akimbo. One of the wizz kids stopped and asked me, ‘Was ist kaput?’. My answer was a rather forlorn,… Read more »


Sod all that cold, I much preferred water skiing in Malta


Hi Luigi,this takes me back to my days as a novice skier in the Ore Mountains(Erzgebirge,when i was in the Army.Great experience,enjoyed every minute, but was not a really competent skier.Well written, Be lucky Peter.

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