The Place of Dreams by Nathaniel Ingle

The Place of Dreams

Drifting across me, snow wildly tickles my sharp jagged edges. Clouds float past me delivering there precious load. I stand here in this dark, dreary landscape, no-one knows me.

Skiers, snowboarders and crazy stuntmen-they all terrorise me every four years. Every night it’s like a stormy night in the Bemuder triangle.Blazzing and blazing I still don’t warm up.

Hazardous, hazardous avalanches storm down the mountain like a stamped of wilder beast. Dangerous-the frozen landscape was extremely dangerous.

Lazily, rain trickles down every nut and cranny I have making it to the frozen valley below .Im soon to be taken over by millions of screaming humans, because the winter Olympics are on there way….

By Nathaniel Ingle