The Vikes

When the wind blows cold on the Minnesota Roads

And the sun sparkles on the ICE,

There’s a hearty breed with a Nordic creed

Who live and die for their Vikes


They have a Dome that they call home

And defend with all their might.

With the rabid noise for their Purple boys

The fans support the fight.


It’s an awesome thing when the decibels ring

As the cheers and jeers get loud

The foundations shake, as opponents quake,

From the vibrations of the crowd.


As the season churns, with it’s twists and turns

The WINS and Titles grow

But each fan learns, whether Grant, or Burns,

Van Brocklin, or Green, to know


That a first-rate Team, and a coaches dream

Isn’t all it takes to win!

But a burning desire and competitive fire

In every Game your in.


Too achieve the goal of the Superbowl

You cannot drop the ball.

Teams must completely sweep the playoff heap,

And never hit the wall.


From ‘61, til this season’s done

It never seems to change.

Opponents stop our run, we don’t get it done,

Or we’re out of field goal range 


Just when we near the top, we stop, or drop,

And begin the fits and starts.

For the Purple reign, causes Purple pain.

Will they always break our hearts!.

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Synergy of Poetry and Verse. Author, Poet, Photographer

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