I donned the boots with shining blades, <br />And tottered to the rink, <br />And as I stepped onto the ice, <br />My heart began to sink. <br />How was I, to stay vertical, <br />On this metal edge so thin, <br />I felt my legs were giving way, <br />And my head was in a spin. <br /> <br />I staggered forth, intrepid me, <br />And toppled straight away. <br />I tried to rise with dignity, <br />But my feet would not obey. <br />I'll never do a figure eight, <br />Or a treble what's its name, <br />My only time trying to skate, <br />Will have no claim to fame. <br /> <br />How slippery this sport, making <br />One tremble at the knees. <br />I was holding on to everything, <br />Even my dungarees. <br />I really needed thick padding, <br />On every part of me, <br />I've now so many bruises, <br />All the colours of a blackberry. <br /> <br />The ladies glided gracefully, <br />The men moved with such speed. <br />I know practise makes perfect, <br />And that is all I need. <br />But it all seemed such an effort <br />To try and stay upright. <br />An 'Ice Skater' in the making? <br />I really don't think so, quite! <br /> <br />© Ernestine Northover<br /><br />Ernestine Northover<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/intrepid-me/
