He came upon a sight he'd never seen,
the beauty of the mountain took his breath.
Its peak covered in snow, pristine and clean,
he'd climb it soon, put himself to the test.
Above, the skies were ominous and gray,
no doubt a storm approaching from the West.
Though hesitant, he packed his gear away,
he'd wait until it passed, a day at best.
His love of nature started when quite young,
in filthy muddy puddles he would play.
Just like a lovely song that's left unsung...
was time not spent outdoors each sunny day.
He started up the mountain on his climb;
the storm had passed, and now he made his way.
Though hours passed, he thought not of the time,
he stopped to rest the middle of the day.
He'd hate the climb to end with his defeat,
so onward toward the top, each step sublime,
his heart and soul fulfilled, but sore, his feet.
He took each moment one step at a time.
Three days of climbing, soon he reached the top,
he shed his garb and frollicked in the snow.
Though cold he was, he didn't want to stop,
the pride he felt inside started to grow.
Of all the things in life that he would do,
this mountain climb would surpass all the rest.
The dream he'd had last night had made it true,
much better than his wheelchair, he'd attest.
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