Here’s a poem Bob Peterman sent me. Bob is a whale of a singer/songwriter/poet. He and his lovely bride, Kay, live up in eastern Montana. Hope you enjoy this one also. thanks Bob.
Itâd been a long cold Christmas eve and Santa needed rest.
He was headin North, a-goin home, from somewhere way out West.
He was over the big Montana Plains, where the ranches are scattered and few,
When he saw a yard light twinkling from a cow ranch that he knew.
Heâd stopped at this place in the past to let his reindeer blow,
Thereâs a shed to hide em under, to get em out of the snow.
The old couple had gone to their grand-kids, they told him theyâd be gone,
But they said âThat donât matter, you just make yourself at home.
Thereâs grain and hay to feed your deer, the doors donât have no locks,
Thereâs a pot of coffee on the stove, and firewood in the box.â
So Santa landed there and fed his deer, and he went on inside,
To warm his feet, and relax a bit, before he finished up his ride.
He found some Christmas cookies and a pot of coffee, like they said,
Then as he looked around, some things he saw, warmed his heart and filled his head,
With thoughts about these ranch folks, that old cowman and his wife,
How they were blessed with what they have, and how they lived their life.
He saw some Christmas cards on the table, that came from all their friends.
Showing manger scenes, and Angels, and âPeace on Earth, Good will to Men.â
Then he saw a Bible opened to Luke âChapter 2, and the story of a Savior
Sent to save the World and make it new.
The tale of the first Christmas, and how it all began,
And the greatest gift of all, that came from GOD to man.
Then it was time for Santa to leave and get home before break of day
The sky way over in the East was already turning gray.
He got his reindeer headed out, then leaned back in the sleigh.
Like good old saddle horses, those reindeer knew the way.
Santa let his thoughts drift back to all those folks who live out on the land,
And he said âThose folks have got it right, and they sure do understand.
They all go help each other, no matter what the task,
And how theyâre going to get paid back, they never even ask.
Theyâll help a stranded traveler, and send him on his way
Theyâll feed a hungry stranger, and never ask for pay.
If everyone around the World, lived by their cowboy code,
It would make my job lots easier, and lighten up my load.
I could concentrate on orphaned kids and folks with real need
And not be just delivering stuff, to satisfy peopleâs greed.
Now I know tomorrow, Christmas will be safe again,
Not because of toys and Santa Claus, but from whatâs in the hearts of man.â
Bob Peterman.