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.
