2015 Great Twin Cities Treasure Hunt (November)

Everybody ready? Got your registrations in?
Let's start the chase then, boys and girls! Who knows? You just might win.
Search the great outdoors to find our secret treasure trove—
A needle in a haystack, in a tiny, hidden grove—

All public places in the cities; from there you may surmise
No golf course, beach, or parking lot will ever hold the prize;
No digging tools will be required, except in case of snow,
And if you're lucky you'll find the jewel—and if not, let it go.

Scavenger alumnae, and treasure rookies, too;
Welcome, one and all, to our great gemstone ballyhoo.
You might assume we'd give away our treasure for a song,
But don't assume that we'd assume, or you'll be in the wrong.

You'll need to move some leaves and brush, so don't forget your rake,
But to put the cart before the horse would be a big mistake;
Now, then, a riddle, to help you go and find our treasure token:
What do you call a blue bird with four legs, one of them broken?

A harpist sits to play their piece; an upright bassist stands.
A singer needs their voice, and violinists need their hands.
A hunter has to keep their wits and take a path that wends;
You could go back in time to the beginnings of the ends.

Seven flags blew in the breeze; the faithful crowd looked on.
They held their breath; he took his mark, got set, and, thereupon,
He soared into the record books, and—tearing up the charts—
Became the greatest athlete to have ever roamed these parts.

Employ heart and find a way to unravel our earthly poem.
Lots of spots in these two towns, so why not get to know 'em?
Don't look with the monkeys at the zoo—avoid all that red tape;
Ample theory should inform your quest for a motherly ape.

A parasite's lunch might help you with your treasure predilection;
You'll note, when you arrive, greenery landscaped to perfection.
It's not on a trail, and it's not at a field for a pitcher and a batter,
But to the treasure you might take the former from the latter.

If you're hoping to demystify and understand our verse,
Two ways of moving letters ought to help you claim the purse.
A medallion shine, so bright and clear; don't let your chances vanish.
¡Ándale! — It couldn't hurt to brush up on your Spanish.

How do I celebrate Thanksgiving? Like a complete and total glutton.
I eat too much turkey and stuffing and pie, as I loosen my top button.
Find two sisters and the seventh son of a seventh son.
¡No entrar! — A sign nearby will tell you when you've won.

The once replete and bountiful Ingebretson's domain
Is but a vestige of its former self—a mere refrain.
If after all of this you feel you're still stuck in the dark,
Well then, we've got news for you: It isn't in a park.

Nobody has yet claimed the jewel; it's hidden well with words.
So if you wish to find it, find where half splits into thirds.
Don't go the way of the buffalo, or gamble with your soul;
Find a pleasant boulevard and take it for a stroll.

This, of course, will be the dozenth of the dozen clues;
It's been a blast, but this is where I pay my awkward dues.
The jewel you seek is near a park, but not within its bounds.
Find the prize betwixt, between, as you hunt near the grounds.

A tiny garden, named for Uncle Charlie—blink and miss it.
Stop and smell the flowers while you're paying him a visit.
A pair of feline sentries guard the prize, not far away;
Tucked inside a Frozen purse—the cold never bothered me anyway.