Alex Clark
Registered User
Life Long Alaskan
Pilots love those Alaskan spring days,
Cruising over the bright snow all a-blaze.
When the Arctic Sun makes the annual migration.
The clear blue skies, stretch for hundreds of miles,
While your repaired cabin heat, makes for some smiles.
The white wonderland daring your skis with temptation.
The Alaskan Sun’s warm and blinding rays,
Remind you of sunglasses you have not seen in 150 days.
So you fly along, with mother nature doing the navigation.
The vaguely familiar sensation of solar heat,
Makes wearing your light-weight parka a real treat.
And you left your Bunny Boots, back at home station.
Cub-flying 20 feet over frozen, snow covered, lakes,
Fills you with appreciation for what the Supreme Pilot up there makes.
Calling you back to the skies every season, without hesitation.
xx
Cruising over the bright snow all a-blaze.
When the Arctic Sun makes the annual migration.
The clear blue skies, stretch for hundreds of miles,
While your repaired cabin heat, makes for some smiles.
The white wonderland daring your skis with temptation.
The Alaskan Sun’s warm and blinding rays,
Remind you of sunglasses you have not seen in 150 days.
So you fly along, with mother nature doing the navigation.
The vaguely familiar sensation of solar heat,
Makes wearing your light-weight parka a real treat.
And you left your Bunny Boots, back at home station.
Cub-flying 20 feet over frozen, snow covered, lakes,
Fills you with appreciation for what the Supreme Pilot up there makes.
Calling you back to the skies every season, without hesitation.
xx
