Two Blondes and a Blue Trail

*hum the Gilligan's Island tune as you proceed*

Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale,
A tale of a fateful hike.....
That started on this blue-marked trail,
Watching birds that we did like.

The mate was a mighty travelling girl,
The skipper runs, knits and purls...

Together they set out at four o'clock,

For a one hour walk.

The weather started getting cold,
Our thighs felt bitten by frost....

We saw a cabin that looked quite old,

And realized we were lost.

The forest started getting dark,

The snow was really deep....

We looked for the trail that was once marked,

Our courage we did not keep.

We emerged into an open space,

No footprints could be seen...

The sun was moving from it's place,

Into the dark we would have been.



But then we saw a yellow thing,
Sticking high out of the snow....
We now had hope from which to cling,
We were in a golf course, we now did know.

We found a fence and a trail beyond,
We approached it, our hope refusing to fail...
And although we're hindered by our hair of blonde,
We found the blue trail....
We found the blue trail.