Jeff Opperman

Light is short, in the great far north
Ice lay thick upon the lake
Snow drifts seek and spread white peaks
like icing on a cake
As the northern lights come out at night
And dare the stars to mate

Mush you huskies mush

In Nome, they know how the cold wind blows
It can chill the devils soul
Brave-hearted men, would not befriend
Such an unrelenting foe
But the prize it waits, at the devils gate
One thousand miles to go

Mush you huskies mush

Climb Rainy pass, deep snow the task
Hoar frost upon the pines
To that down hill run, where church bells rung
As they try to make up time
Powdered snow whisks from a sled that list
Will it be your dogs or mine

Mush you huskies mush

With frosty breath, they seek their quest
Though mountain, field and stream
The driver knows, as he steers them slow
What one mistake might mean
Neath the midnight sun,all born to run
This yelling, yapping team

Mush you huskies mush

Now a heart of gold, is a heart to hold
A treasure sure to seek
And the bond that's spun with a dog is one
Every musher knows complete
A man's best friend, no matter how it ends
Be it victory or defeat

Mush you huskies mush

The Iditarod fate-----The last great race
This test of dog and man
With frozen breaths, all gave their best
One thousand miles they ran
Oh tale of tails, hear the musher's yells
And shout out all who can

Mush you huskies mush

I bought a mermaid costume.
Somehow I lost the scales.
Wore it Halloween night
And looked just like a whale.

Thought I'd dress as Dracula,
On my face a little blood.
Tripped on a cape that's too long
And now my name is mud.

White curly locks like Bo Peep,
A staff there in my hand.
All the old men gave me Snicker
As down the street I ran.

Dressed as Richard Simons
Right down to the shorts.
All I got was fruit
And exercise of course.

Dressed up like the king,
And you thought Elvis dead.
Of course I couldn't sing.
Just shook my booty instead.

Dressed up as a turkey
Last Thanksgiving Day.
Missed Halloween completely.
What else can I say?

So have a happy trick-or-treat.
Use your imagination,
But when it comes to costumes,
I'm thinking ramification.

One ghostly ghoul, one green eyed goblin
The headstones say; you've got a problem
To venture on my porch tonight
Might want to hold your mummy tight
Lit with jack-o-lantern heads
And zombies that we haven't fed
The bushes sing with raven calls
Behind the webs the spiders crawl
The lab that's in the basement lit
Where Dracula and Wolfman sit
With Frankenstein just playing cards
While mother hangs out in the yard
Now candies dandy, but a trick's a treat
Oh, I love the sound of running feet

Back in October a Christmas wish I made.
A brand new set of golf clubs before next year I played.
Then on Christmas morn, with my eyes I spied
An oblong box under the tree, with ribbon wrapped and tied.

I looked out the window and saw the ice and snow.
But in my heart I knew, a golfing I would go.
Now I'd need some special gear to play in these conditions.
So I loaded up my golf bag to start a new tradition.

A broom to sweep the greens and a hammer for the tees
And different colored balls for white I wouldn't see.
Arriving at the course, the ground was glistening white.
I wouldn't have to wait, a tee time was no plight.

I swept away a pile of snow and pounded in a tee.
Placed a colored ball atop it and swung away with glee.
My ball went soaring down the fairway and landed with a flop
Into a two foot snow drift (unplayable), take a drop.

My next shot went into the sand, a shot to truly dread.
Then all at once I spotted him, a man all dressed in red.
As I'm lining up my shot, it's Santa Claus I think,
When my ball flew in the hole, He looked at me and winked.

I knew these clubs were going to work, I'd just made a par.
Let's play one hole together before heading for your car.
To believe in Santa at sixteen, you might think it queer,
But it isn't very often you get to see reindeer.

A long par par three lay next, as we walked upon the tee.
There was no flag to aim for and the green I couldn't see
Don't worry said the man in red, I know what lies ahead.
Use your trusty five iron and aim it for my sled.

I'd like to thank you for these clubs, I wasn't sure that I would get.
He said your welcome son, but Christmas isn't over yet
I kept my head nice and still checked my stance and grip.
"Nice shot" said the bearded one, it's hanging on the lip.

It seems a shame, he must be blind, there's no ball upon the green
And I was disappointed because I stuck it crisp and clean
And now you know my story and know one would believe.
How I made my first hole in one with Santa there to see.