Swaying telecabines cross dark pines
White coated and ascend the north face
Sheer, stark claimer of a dozen lives
Magic mountain of fond memory.
At the top station tunneled in rock
We pass through the summit and dismount.
The Oberland lays spread before us
Gstaad left to Diablerettes right.
Breathless, dazzled by sun sparkled snow
We stamp and joke, fastening bindings
Buckling boots, stomachs tightening now
In anticipation of descent.
We launch our skis committing bodies to air
Like eagles stoop, boom the south headwall
Plunge into the powder field below
Pumping turns and throwing rooster tails.
Out of the soft hissing powder once more
Skis chattering on the piste again
Flat out, side by side we race shouting
Full of joy, glad to be together.
Long ago those happy days on Rougemont
Magic mountain of my memory.
Long parted my skiing friend and I
How I loved him then and will always.