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Christmas Cheer and Poem

The snow lies deep here at the Bar 7. The Canadian cold works into my bones somewhere around the middle of October, and I yearn for a spring day when the sun will throw a more respectable degree of heat.

Yet this is the Christmas season, and I’m more inclined toward finding a gift for the beautiful woman in my life, and sometime before the morning of the twenty-fifth, a tree to decorate. We’re fortunate here in the north. Trees are our heritage. Finding a Christmas spruce or pine, and a few decorative branches for home and hearth is still relatively easy. I hope that never changes.

And now I want to thank you my readers and friends for your support. A multitude of authors take a stab at a Christmas poem. I hope you’ll enjoy mine.

I left the North Pole,

A twitch after dark.

Why, I’d plenty of time

For my Christmas Eve lark.

I harnessed the twelve,

They looked so benign.

They’re showing their age,

But I’m sure they’ll be fine.

We left in a clatter,

And stopped in a flash.

A broken sleigh runner,

Used up my spare cash.

We sort of got goin’,

With a jury-rigged sled.

When Rudolph that klutz,

Fell flat on his head.

We started again,

But then it began.

A case of the splints,

Dropped the reindeer to ten.

We still made good time,

Down the steep southern trail.

When four of my old ones,

Proceeded to fail.

That left me just six,

But they’re stout, and they’d do.

With luck we should make it,

Though we are short a few.

And then at Fort Nelson,

Things went to the dogs.

Two more of those reindeer,

Threw a wrench in my log.

“Foundered,” they said,

At the local retreat,

Where I’d stopped for a pop,

And something to eat.

So now I’m at four,

With a long way to go.

The thermometer’s dropped,

To forty below.

Then somewhere in Kansas,

In the dark and the cold,

My Donner and Blitzen,

Proceeded to fold.

With frost-bitten lungs,

All spavined and sore,

The traces went slack,

They couldn’t pull any more.

So with two of my team,

And me breakin’ trail.

I’m comin’ sometime,

I’ll try not to fail.

For I’ve a tradition to keep,

A cold winter date.

Count on me coming,

But . . . I’ll be a bit late!

Merry Christmas to all!

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