three weeks before christmas

     T'was three weeks before Christmas and all through our nest,
     dogs were wrestling and making a mess.
     The stockings were hung on the mantle with hast,
     will likely stay empty, that’s prob-ly the case.
 
The cat and two dogs should be in their beds,
but all were begging for their dinner instead.
 
     And Pa at his computer and me in my chair,
     I need to do chores but don’t really care.
     It’s cold outside and I’m warm by the fire,
     I wish I could afford someone to hire.

A dog in my lap and a Christmas show,
are making me lazy and move kind of slow.
I head to the barn, I have horses to feed,
it’s no longer fun instead it’s a need.
 
     When out in the field there arouse such a clatter,
     Dog ran to the fence to see what was the matter.
 
More rapid than eagles the challengers came,
I yelled at the horses and called them by name.
Come Summer and Penny and get in yours stalls,
they snorted and ran and ignored my calls.
 
     Two bucks came together with a powerful crash,
     a battle before us, heads locked in their wrath.
 
While horses are running, I slam the gate,
then call for Pa, bring the 38.

     One buck tucked his tail and came running my way,
     startling me as I gathered the hay.
 
Jumping the fence they chased through the field,
while Pa stood packing, being our shield.
 
The prancing and pawing of each equine hoof,
the mares finally settled without raising the roof.
 
Into the  house I scurried with haste,
time to fix dinner with no time to waste.
 
Darn cat’s on the counter, licking a spoon,
It will be a long winter, I can’t wait until June.
 
Winter is time for things to move slow,
but each year it gets harder to shovel the snow.
 
 It’s warm in the south or so I am told,
for as we get older we dislike the cold.
 
With all of these animals to care for you know,
they make it impossible for us to go.
I love all my animals and will care till they’ve gone
and then I will miss them all the day long.
 
Our memories worsen with each passing day,
forget where we put stuff and all that we say,
Part of the journey, so I am told, 
normal for our age, were just getting old.
 
I have more to do before I lie down,
thank goodness for health and getting around.
A roof overhead and food on the table,
clothes on our back, we don’t need fancy labels.
  
We’re blessed through and through and thank God for each day,  
there’s Christ in Christmas, though people don’t say,
Merry Christmas to all, the rest of the season,
and remember al-ways that Jesus’ the reason.
 
Now I’m finished, I’ve not more to say but,
Merry Christmas to All and Have a Great Day!

By Sherrie Gant

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