Farmyard Christmas

 Hello dear friends.

I hope you are all enjoying a joyful Christmastime.

We are well here ~ life always seems to have curves.

Blessings yet to discover, right?

I have a Christmas poem to share but want to first share with you~

I wrote this a few years back and haven't shared it with many

since I was "kindly insulted" for it.

The "moral" however is something I feel quite strongly about

having had family killed by a drunk driver going home from mass Christmas eve.

So gentle reader, if you are sensitive to such things,

I mean not to offend.

Feel free to pass over this.

It is meant as an entertaining reminder of something we all know better.

Twas the night before Christmas

When all through the shed

Not a creature was stirring

They were all snug in bed.

The stalls were all made 

With fresh, clean straw

All was in order

Thanks to Pa and Ma.

They knew what Christmas

Was all about

By the end of the day

They were all tuckered out.

The critters were thankful 

And rested their heads

They were all warm and cozy

In their freshly made beds.

When what to their

Sleep eyes should appear

But a chuck wagon loaded down

With grub and gear.

Their eyes popped wide open

And they thought they should dash

As the wagon it landed

With an ear-shattering crash.

The driver was pale

And kinda looked sick

They weren't quite sure

But thought "It might be St. Nick."

A bit stunned and dazed

His team they came to

He kicked and he cursed 

And he hollered "Why you..."

Ricken, Fricken, Dirty, Dyin

Mangy, Mongral, Sonova, Brawl

To heck with ya, heck with ya

Heck with y'all.

As a drunken sailor

Who's just come ashore

He stumbled and fell

And broke through the door.

The animals were stunned

They were really quite shaken

This wasn't St. Nick

They were surely mistaken.

He fell near the cow

But the bull quickly stepped in

With a mighty Kapow!

He set him a-spin.

He lit in the grain

By the grace of a horn

Half-witted, in stupor

All covered in corn.

The mule took a turn

With nary a care

Offering two hind feet

Sent him high in the air.

Pa heard the ruckus

And jumped out of bed

He said, grabbing his gun

"You'll wish you were dead."

He could see out the window

By the moon's yellow tinge

It must be St. Nick

On a holiday binge.

They ran to the shed

And found oh what a sight

St. Nick in his long-handles

Running off in the night.

Now everything might not be 

Just as it seem

Pa and Ma got a new wagon

And an eight horse team.

St. Nick, he was lucky

He got out alive

And the moral of course is

Don't drink and drive.

Wishing you all a very blessed and merry Christmas

and much kindness and laughter in the year to come.