2015 Northfield Winter Walk Ornament Hunt

Twas the week before Winter Walk, when all through the town
not a townie was seeing, the ornament found
The memento was hung in position with flair
in hopes that rewards soon would be theirs

The children would frolic all snug in their chairs
while visions of yesteryear stuck in their heads
And mamma in her do-rag, and I in my cap
eyeing sickle and sward for a long winter’s nap

When out of the heavens there arose such a clatter
I circled my bed to see what was the matter
Away to the window I looked up in a flash
swiped open the shackles and loaded an app

The moon on the crest of the invisible snow
Gave the hustle of mid-day to objects below
When to my wondering orbits appear
But a secondary sleigh, and four tiny rein-D’er

With a little old compass, so lively and quick
I knew in a moment it must be a trick
They called out like eagles, the Valter bug came
And he searched, and deciphered, and called him bad names

“Find Dasher, no Dancer, not Prancer or Vixen!
Find Comet, no Cupid! Yes, yes Donner not Blitzen!
When looking for treasure, your map will tell all!
Now cash away! Cash away! Cash away all!”

As dry leaves that before the new wayfinder sign
When they meet with a rood icon, covered in brine
So up to the plat-top the cursors they flew
With the sleigh full of toys, but no snow to stick to

And then, in a twinkling, It appear on my layer
The prancing and pawing of each little player
As I drew in my head, and was walking around
Down the hill I came knowing trinkets soon would be found

He was dressed in one color, from his head to his foot
And his clothes were all stained with grasses and soot
A bundle of equipment he had flung on his back
And he looked like a bandit, who just debunked his hack

The lights — all lit dimly, high atop the pavilion
The ground did not shimmer, blades of grass in the trillions
The ornament planted in a place down below
You can see as you wander because there is no snow

The stump of the North pole holds one of the hints
or circle the outside and work your way in
You could go to the middle, of the rectangle turf
or criss-cross the secrets, all hang outside the roof

On Wilcox, on Bunker said everyone yore
No one’s laughing this winter because spring we adore
Now walk North field carefully, now that you can spell
if you stumble upon snowflake, have a drink from the well