I found a few for you. The first one in my opinion is the best:

Via: http://snowboarding.transworld.net/2003/04/17/mack-dawgs-poem-to-the-fallen-snowboarders/

"The distant drums pound the voices are low
I struggle to find words for the legends that grow
With ideals to protect on a path so pure
The poison of mediocrity must be obscured

Although they have fallen they still push us forward
No compromises, perfection explored
Their battles were waged on the highest of peaks
Our sacred ground no place for the weak

Soaring high into the lofty clouds
No compromises ever allowed
Their lives so vibrant it is plain to see
The path of perfection is what they did seek

Their spirits have reached the highest ground
Where stakes can be deadly let these words resound
It is our remembrances that keep legends bold
So band the drum loudly let their stories be told "

Via: http://allpoetry.com/poem/1860139
"Crisp mountain air
Breathing into my face
Refreshing, regenerating
Renewing, reviving

Sitting at the top of the world
On soft, white powder
Admiring at the beauty
The magnificent mountain peaks

Anticipation now building inside myself
Preparing for what is soon to come
Breathing in, breathing out
Smiling at the excitement soon to come

Rising to my feet, standing on my board
Carving into the side of the mountain
Revitalizing breeze hitting into me
As I make my way down the hill"

Via: http://www.bukisa.com/articles/13886_snowboarding-poem
"Flying down the mountain
The wind flying around me
I am too bundled up to feel anything
The only sense is sight
The trees flying around me
It is just me and the snowboard
I am the driver
It is my car
I get close to the trees
But never hit them
I go down the steep slope
The snowboard carves into the hard snow
It paints a picture
That gets more and more elaborate
As more people fly down the mountain
They follow me
Because they want the painting to be even better
It is an endless etching
Into the hard packed snow
I finally reach the bottom
But people still come down after me
It is a never ending flow
It only stops
When the day is done
This is the worst part of the day
When I can’t feel the snowboard under me
When I can’t drive the most graceful car
I wish I was flying down the mountain
Sad and depressed
Finally it is morning again
I am the first one on top of the mountain
I take a deep breath
Putting the snowboard on my feet
To start the never ending painting
Again and again"

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