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