Land of the Midnight HubNuggets

The Arctic winds are a-blowin'...

It's cold - VERY cold. We're breaking out the dog sleds and Arctic gear for everyone...No, that's not true. It is, however, rather chilly, but that is to be expected in my neck of the woods, at this time of year. Thank goodness for snow tires, and walk-behind blowers.

Digging out the winter woollies has also set me thinking about a family friend, a doctor, who, on hearing from my grandparents that we were living in Aklavik, amused himself by writing and illustrating an arctic saga - an epic adventure all in verse, about my sister and me, "Mickey Took-a-Look" and "Little Babushka", as we mushed across the frozen north in search of polar bears.

We're not quite ready to load up dog sleds, but all this snow has reminded me of another writer of poetic northern adventures.

There are strange things done 'neath the midnight sun by the scribes who strive for gold;

The Arctic trails hide SEO tales that would turn your printer cold;

The Northern Lights have seen great sights, but the greatest they ever did see

Was the vote by the scribes of the Hub Pages tribes that crowned "HubNuggets" McGee.

Now "Hubs" McGee was born far from me, in a land where writers grow;
Why he left his home in that place to roam 'round Hub Pages, we all know;
He'd a knack for prose, and was quick to compose a rhyme or a serious theme;
Though he'd often say, in his plaintive way, he had "recurring keyword dreams."

On a wintry day we were mushing our way over the Hub Pages trails

In search of gold - the kind, we'd been told, was the true HubNuggets Grail.

Our unending quest gives the team no rest as we scan pages untold;

Searching far and wide, reading day and night, to uncover HubNugget gold.

* * * * *

We'd heard a tale from an elder, frail, of a fabulous cache ahead,

So we pushed along to our mushing song while the North Lights played o'erhead.

Our intrepid team, in the starlight's gleam, made a striking sight to see;

So some snaps we took, for a future book on, of course, "HubNuggettry."

* * * * *

Jason Menayan hales from Marketing Sales - and round the Hub trails roams,

With Manager Maddie, and Hub Staff "fixers", Fawntia and Simone;

Such an awesome crew! Soon we'll add a new scout to ply the deadline trail,

You can rest assured "Hub gold" is secure in the hands of our ladyjane.

* * * * *

Patty, Master Scribe, of the "Inglish" tribe, wordsmith, and creative find;

She's a style that's bold, and a nose for gold, of the best HubNuggets kind;

Yet she pens, with ease, any hub you please - and treks where the Hub-winds blow;

For you know that where the hubs are, there this HubNuggets scout will go.

* * * * *

Mush over, and see Little Zsuzsy Bee, that discerning raconteur;

Herding ducks and chicks with a hockey stick - she's Canadian, that girl.

But her hubs display both abandon gay, and mighty talent, too;

And she has a nose, so the saying goes, for to catch HubNuggets, too.

* * * * *

Ripplemaker swings on her goss'mer wings through Hub Pages, to and fro,

Spreading joy and glee, positivity, as she lets new hubbers know

That their hubs will be there for all to read in our contest of the week;

Yes, behind the wheel of her HubMobile, she's a ripple spreading streak.

* * * * *

Now Enelle Lamb's added to our clan - a scribe of high repute;

When it comes to prose, as saying goes, she's a "hubber, tried and true";

There's ne'er been mined a HubNugget find, of the gold variety,

That she'd miss in her quest to uncover the best HubNugget Wannabes.

* * * *

Miss KoffeeKlatch Gals rounds out our pals, a writer of style and flair;
Though a novice "ranger", she is no stranger to authorship's travails;
A musher steady, she's always ready to strike the open trail,
She'll spare no labor so all can savor the HubNugget gold without fail.

* * * * *

And now RedElf - this is me, myself, a HubNuggets ranger true;
I patrol HubPages in search of sages, and poets, and humor, too;
But my week's not done 'til my trail's been run down byways and paths untold,
For my team and I will search low and high 'til we've found HubNugget gold.

Now, our "Hubs" McGee was modest. He was good, but he wanted to learn.
As the days flew by, he began to find that his hubs had started to earn.
Just a cent or two at the start, t'was true, but his writing skills he honed,
And his hubs, refined, took an upward climb, and his fans base began to grow.

But the money was not what McGee had sought: it was not the crowd's acclaim;
It was self-esteem, and a writer's dream - to be worthy to bear the flame -
Yes, the torch of the muse! Creative dues that each author gladly paid,
Through the lonely nights, through each "Please rewrite," 'til, at last, they make the grade.

So he labored on, for his heart was strong - he could see the prize ahead,
And he knew at last it would come to pass, and he raised his eyes and said,
"Hub Pages, you gave my voice a new place to grow, to speak, to play,
Now, we stand here - nine of the best alive, Hub Kings! Well - 'til next Wednesday..."

There are strange things done 'neath the midnight sun by the scribes who strive for gold;
The Arctic trails hide SEO tales that would turn your printer cold;
The Northern Lights have seen great sights, but the greatest they ever did see
Was the vote by the scribes of the Hub Pages tribes that crowned "HubNuggets" McGee.

The poetic form of this epic saga of the True North was inspired by Paraglider, whose limerick thread and thoughtful comments helped to make me feel so welcome when I was a newcomer to HubPages.