Gray Georgian sky’s upon the mountain hung.
With no sign of blue The Victors could not be sung
Four mighty men and a four legged friend began the year anew
Off we trotted to Gibson’s glade all covered in the misty dew
A circle we made and flaid we did!
My four legged friend found no joy
In search of relief the kanine saw his ploy
“Imperial Walkers” barked the Q
With stealy eyes my kanine what he need to do
To Doouie he leaped toward and would not head
In cadence did his leg raise!
“Parker Peters” barked the Q
Into the grass dove Douie with no phase!
1,2,3, Douie’s in year un!
The pax separated I with my ruck and they with their charge
To the mountains we would move with Dignhy and his barge
Up to the skies we surged
Hope our sins would be purged!
Burpees on the turn
To the heavens our legs would burn
Back down to earth
The place of our birth