Page Ten

 

 

Sermon on the Mount

I sit here on my steadfast horse
  while the moon begins its nightly course
I'm ridin' nightherd, so I guess there's time
  to reflect upon this life of mine.

My right leg is crooked over the saddle horn
  as I wait for signs of the imminent morn'.
It's not hard for a cowboy's thoughts to dwell
  upon his Creator, and the Lord's words, as well.

The wind carries the sound through the night air
  of the grazing remuda, and the belled mare.
My horse would like to join them, I can imagine,
  and I'd like to be sleeping, like the others, by the wagon.

But, instead, I'm here, and I'm wonderin' how
  anyone who's ever worked with a cow
Could disbelieve that there is a God
  who put us upon this wonderful sod.

Ain't it amazin' how an old mama cow
  will go off by herself, away from the crowd
And for the most part, calve out, without hardly coughin',
  tho' we take it for granted, we see it so often.

And what about those geese I saw fly by today?
  Who tells them to fly southward, and which is the right way?
And my horse's winter coat, now that's a strange thing,
  and who tells him he should shed it when winter turns to spring?

A cowboy might think that an eclipse is a mystery,
  tho' we've seen them many times, all down through posterity.
But, ain't it something how the sun and moon have their charted courses?
  And how a mighty river springs from the smallest of mountain sources?

This manger scene before me reminds me of my Saviour's birth,
  and that God would give His only Son to die for all the earth.
I'll never understand it all, I can only believe...
  just like I'll never savvy how a spider learns to weave.

My horse stomps his forefoot, and champs at his curb bit.
  Our job tonight is over and I'm right glad of it.
I believe there is a God, if my opinion you would count,
  and I hope that you will pardon...this sermon on my mount.

Virginia Bennett
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.


Read more of Virginia Bennett's poetry here


Featured in "The Big Roundup," an anthology of the best of CowboyPoetry.com.

 

 

When Cowboys Saved Christmas
 

'Twas the night before Christmas
And all through the house
Not a critter was stirin'
Not even a mouse
But way up yonder
At the North Pole
There was enough ruckus going on
To unearth a mole
See one of the elves
Believe it or not
Left the gate open
To the Reindeer lot
And It didn't take 'em long
To all get away
So now Santa had no Reindeer
To pull his ol' sleigh
He stomped all around
On the snow and the ice
Then pulled out his list
Of who've been naughty or nice
He shook his head and said
 "I fear
 There just won't be no Christmas
 This year
 And what's the tooth fairy
 And the Easter bunny gonna think
 I know it's awful early
But I think I need a drink"
 
About that time a truck and trailer
Pulled up
And out stepped two cowboys
With a mangy Catahoula pup
One said "Excuse me sir
Yes you in the red suit
Could you please help us out
Cause were kinda lost on our route
See we left Texas
I guess it was a while back
Headed north for Calgary
We were up there in the slack
But I guess we must have made
A wrong turn or two
Could you point us in that direction
Or do you have a map that we can view"
 
"Calgary!" Santa said
Well you're much too far north
And besides the stamped is over with
Heck boys it's December 24th!"
The cowboys shook their heads
And then they cracked a smile
One said "Well we figured half as much
Cause we've been traveling for quite a long while
 

But judging by your get up 
And Forgive me if I pause
I'm guessing we're at the North Pole
And you're Ol' Santa Claus
Now if I've figures right
And tomorrow is Christmas day
Shouldn't you be out a delivering
Gifts and goodies in your sleigh?"
 
Santa then explained
And hung his head down low
But the cowboys said "Don't worry!
We were looking for a rodeo"
So they saddled up their horses
And with a whoop and yell
Took off after Dasher, Dancer and Prancer
Who were running like a bat out of hell
But they finally got 'em headed off
With the help of that mangy pup
Vixen and Comet fell in with them
As they got 'em rounded up
Now Cupid, Donner and Blitzen'
Really didn't have a whole lot of run
But that red nosed deer called Rudolph
Well he was having a ton of fun
He ducked and dodged their loops
And partner could he run fast
It took several hours
But they finally caught him at last
 
And as they helped Santa hitch 'em up
They said "You know there pard'
We have this thing in Texas
That we call a cattle guard"
"Point well taken" Santa said
"I will have a few put in
Be sure to stop and visit
If you're ever up this way again"
 
So the next time that the rodeo
Happens to come to your town
And us cowboys get a little wild
Please ma'am don't you frown
And before you go to cussing cowboys
And a raising all this fuss
Just remember two lost cowboys
Once saved Christmas!
 
  2005, Cade Schalla
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.

 

Read more of Cade Schalla's poetry here.


.

 
 


Old Santa Won't Come to Our Ranch

Old Santa won't come to our ranch.
It's hard to say why at first glance.
But last time he came,
the ice made him lame.
In falling, he ripped out his pants.

When he tried to land his red sleigh,
our horses all got in his way.
Those tangled reindeer
couldn't get it in gear.
He took off at dawn Christmas Day.

Old Santa, he heaved a big sigh
as he stepped in a soft green cow pie.
He cussed a blue streak,
neither mild nor meek.
It made all the little ones cry.

We fed him some cookies and juice.
But meanwhile a reindeer got loose.
He wandered away,
his heart gone astray,
in love with a local she-moose.

Our dog nipped the Saint in the heal.
Poor Santa did let out a squeal.
Our dog didn't know
when she bit that big toe,
this guy wasn't fake.  He was real.

So Santa won't land at our place.
He flies by at sonic boom pace.
He airdrops a sack,
our Christmas gift pack,
but those memories he'll never erase.

2005, Terry Henderson 
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.

 

Read more of Terry Henderson's poetry here.

 

 

Christmas Cap Pistol

It was a Saturday in late December;
 Our parents took us to town, as I remember,
And my big brother Ralph and I were two excited little boys.
We were all in a singing, happy mood,
as we drove  in to get the weekly supplies and food.
 We were also going to look at the Christmas toys!

We lived out in the country at Hardin's horse ranch
and both of us jumped at any chance
to get out of doing our regular daily chores.
There was just absolutely no way,
especially this close to Christmas Day,
that we were gonna miss prowling through those stores.
 
While our daddy went in one direction with mother,
 Ralph and I snuck away, and went the other,
And zeroed in on the toy section of the shop.
We both saw something that was quite appealing -
a six foot stocking hung from the stores ceiling,
filled with toys and candy clean up to the top.
 
It was stuffed with goodies of every kind,
a sight that could affect any young boys mind.
We had never seen a stocking of such massive size.
So off to find our parents we went,
when  Ralph read the sign in red and green print,
that said "Enter here to win this raffle prize." 
 
We begged our folks over and over again,
to enter this drawing we hoped we'd win.
We kept pointing out that it only cost a dime.
So my Daddy tired of hearing us yell and holler,
Went over and handed the ticket seller a dollar
And got us entered, just in the nick of time.
 
Never in history has there been a kid
That wanted to win as much as I did.
I was sending prayers up faster than a nun.
 In The stocking I'd saw a little cap pistol set,
That I would have given Ralph's right arm to get.
I tell you I really wanted that gun.
 
. So  we  stood there in anticipation
which turned  into a joyful celebration
When the raffle announcer called out our name,
When the stocking was lowered to the floor
We scattered candy and toys all over the store
Ralph and I just about went insane.
 
Winning that prize sure made us smile.
 We had those toys for quite awhile
And we ate candy until there just wasn't any more.
 That year we were pretty popular young boys,
townfolks pointed us out and mentioned the toys,
every time we went back into that Store.
 
We were happy as a lark  that we had won
But we both lost out on the western cap gun.
As I think back now on the reason, it makes me laugh,
 As I recall I was playing cowboy with my brother
  And we started wrestling with each other
And we dropped that pistol, and it broke right in half!

2005, Harold Roy Miller
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.

 

Read more of Harold Roy Miller's poetry here.

 


Visit our Art pur project for a collection of poems inspired by 
"A Christmas Tale" by Mick Harrison. 

 

 

See a complete list of all the holiday poems from 2000-2005 here.

See the links here for holiday news and more.


 

 

Page Ten

 

 

 

 

 

 

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