 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
| THIS SITE CREATED AND OWNED BY JACKIE LANE |
|
| TO E-MAIL ME |
 |
| To join this site, click below, put add me in the subject line. |
 
|
 |
 |
| A COWBOY CHRISTMAS
Sure is cold out here on this hill That fire jest ain’t big enough; Spendin’ Christmas Eve out here alone Sure seems mighty rough. But somebody had to see after th’ stock An’ Bud—he’s got him a wife, An’ Sonny went to check on his ma— She won’t be long in this life. An’ Charley now has got all them kids— Couldn’t miss bringin’ ’em toys. He’d whittled out whistles an’ tops an’ dolls Every minute he’d spent with us boys. So I was the one who got to ride herd— Didn’t have no fam’ly near, An’ it’s mighty cold in this line camp, But, say, ain’t th’ sky awful clear? There’s stars hangin’ low, almost to touch, An’ snow sparkles here on th’ ground Peaceful as can be on this Miracle Night— A lonely coyote’s th’ only sound. I remember th’ stories Ma used to read From th’ Bible, big an’ black, ’Bout how God sent His Son to be born on this night To point men to th’ right track. She told me ’bout Mary an’ Joseph An’ Wise Men an’ shepherds that came— Like me—’cept I’m keepin’ cattle, not woolies, But I reckon it’s sorta th’ same. An’ on that long-ago night, men saw th’ star An’ followed it to where He lay, Just like men still look for God Each an’ ev’ry day. So sure, it’s cold out here tonight An’ lonely by th’ fire, But I’ll jest remember that other time An’ listen for th’ angel choir. An’ maybe I’m th’ lucky one, Spendin’ tonight out here, ’Cause stars hang low in a prairie sky An’ th’ Child seems mighty near. So I thank you, Father, for your Gift An’ for lovin’ us so much— I’ll look an’ wonder just which Star was Th’ sign of your heavenly touch. Francine Roark Robison Cowboy Poet Laureate of Oklahoma |
 |
