The Mountain

A Bronze-winning Acrostic (written by me) from Allpoetry

Maybe you would think it foolish,
Over hills and across dales he went with his tools
Under ridges and across crags – all to
Navigate the ultimate prize
Towards greatness he headed
And facing torrents of wind and rain
Ice and snow – and occasional blizzard, he
Negotiated his nemesis – celebrating with a tin of soup at the summit

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