The Western Night Before Christmas






‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the barn

not a cow was bellowing, not even a yawn.

The saddle bags were hung by the feed door with care,

in hopes that Kris Kringle should soon be there.


The cowboys were all comfy and warm in their beds,

while visions of smoked Hereford brisket, danced in their heads.

Top Hand, in her nightgown and her cat Tasha to boot,

had just settled in from a big family cahoot.


When out near the barn there rose such a matter,

I sprang from my bunk to identify this clatter.

Away to the front drive I flew like a tassle,

sped over the gravel, and looked around at the hassle.


The moon gave light to no fallen snow,

but made  noonday plain to the objects behold,

what to my groggy eyes should appear,

but a Cowboy Cadillac with eight dang big deer.

With a big cowboy hat wearing driver, so nimble so quick,

I knew once I spotted, it must be St. Nick.

More rapid than blue heelers, his trophies they came,

and he whistled, and guided, and called them by name.

“Now Dasher! Now Dancer!

Now, Prancer and Vixen!

On, Comet! On, Cupid!

On, Donner and Blitzen!

To the top of the barn, No worry of the fall!

Now dash away! Dash away!

Dash away all!”

And then in a twinkling, I heard on the barn roof,

The prancing and tapping of each reindeer hoof.

As I thought in my head and was utterly dumbfound,

out from the hay stall, past Shakira the watch dog, did Santa abound!

He was dressed as a cowboy from his Stetson to his big boots,

with a fine trophy belt buckle won for sleigh packing to boot.

He opened his pack as fast as Trevor Brazile ties a roped calf,

And went straight to his chores with a hearty loud laugh.


He was Western friendly and a jolly ol’ elf,

I giggled like a boy, despite my good self.

With a tip of his hat, and wink in his eye,

He gave me goosebumps, just watching him fly.

He spoke not a word, but went to his work,

he filled all those saddle bags without a hard word,

then laying his finger aside of his nose,

up the windmill skyward he rose.

He sprang to his sleigh and at his team did whistle,

And away they were gone like snipe hunters in a thistle.

But, I heard this exclamation as he flew out of sight,

“Happy Christmas, y’all and all y’all have a good night!”

About whiteface1881

Certified Hereford Beef was established to provide the best tasting beef to the great U.S.A. The American Hereford Assn. was established in 1881 and it's that tradition that helps us build upon our Excellence.
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