With A Helping Hand
The summit is high and the spirits were low,
by Jane Tomlin
They didn’t wanna die and they didn’t wanna go,
Determination was the key but they didn’t wanna know.
They were scared of what lay before them,
They didn’t know what would happen,
If we were lost, we were hurt; we were chased by a goat.
Upon the freezing mountainside,
We all sat there side by side,
Preventing each other from falling asleep,
Somebody said something about the sheep.
At 3am we scrambled down,
Everyone wore a nasty frown,
Clambered in the bus on our way back,
Just wanted to get in my nice warm sack.
We were all very grateful for the cosy lie in,
The teachers got the blame but they said don’t worry,
But they were trying to get there in such a hurry
And we all felt really sorry.
Though later in the week our confidence grew,
We knew what we wanted and we knew what to do,
As your stomach flipped over and you took the leap of faith,
You found yourself skipping along the rock face.
Scaling the crumbling ridge they were,
You couldn’t hear anyone shouting out “Sir! ”
To the top they all climbed laughing with glee,
When they reached the stone pile they were all happy.
Standing on the top looking down beneath the cloud,
Somewhere below stood the far off ground,
A great sense of achievement spread amongst the gang,
You can easily do it with a helping hand.
They all went home confident and strong,
Giving up last time was easy but wrong,
So I’ll be back next time to have some more fun,
Save me some hills I need more space to run.
From Tuesday to Sunday the time went so fast,
With more time we can make the beauty last.