I recall that special feeling
Of
recoiled anticipation,
Sitting
poised and ready
High
atop the snow-capped hill.
The
rush of spilled adrenaline,
The
gush of gusting wind which
Hurried
past as I went flying
To
the bottom. What a thrill
It
gave a young and foolish heart
To
know a danger quickly born
Of
pure delight, turned by flight to
Pure
uncensored ecstasy.
Knowing
at that moment that
No
matter what the future held,
Nothing
could be better. It's as
Good
as life was meant to be.
Oh! The joy of being wrong. For
Of
all the memories I recall,
To
know the sweetness of your touch
Is
the greatest thrill of all.
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