Rod Miller: A Campfire Christmas

‘Twas the night before Christmas, ‘round the ol’ campfire

Coyotes were howlin’ out past the picket wire

Stockings were hung on the chuckwagon box

Cowboys wore boots without any socks

The cattle were lowing, the horses were fed

And saddlesore cowboys were ready for bed

Sugarplum visions danced under each hat

Sweet dreams of women and houses of cat

Thoughts of cheap whiskey and nights on the town

Made the trail crew want to finally lie down

All of a sudden, from down in the draw

A familiar voice growled, “Merry Christmas. Yee Haw!”

A pot-bellied figure all dressed up in red

With a beard white as snow and white hair on his head

Strode up to the campfire with a load on his back

And plopped on the ground a big gunnysack

“It’s Satan!” said Rimrock, with a look of pure fear

“Naw, it’s Cookie,” said Gus. “Happens ever’ year.”

The fat crimson elf with the twinkly eyes

Smiled at the cowhands and hollered, “Surprise!”

“I been makin’ a list, an’ checkin’ it twice

Some of ya’s naughty, and some of ya’s nice”

He twirled on his boot heel and shook his white beard

“It’s Christmas Eve, an’ I’m finally here.”

“I bring coal an’ onions to bad li’l boys

But for good bronc peelers, I bring a sackload o’ toys.”

The cowboys all looked deep within their own souls

Toys are shore dandy, but you can always use coal

An’ onions would be a nice break from beans

Besides, we got next year to start livin’ clean

“But ya been workin’ hard takin’ care o’ the herd

So my sack ain’t full o’ discoragin’ words”

“The Big Boss loves ya, ya love him right back

So gather ‘round buckaroos, let’s open this sack.”

This news filled the yuletide cowboys with joy

They all gathered ‘round like good lil’l boys

Spurs an’ ammo an’ bright neckerchiefs

Piggin’ strings, an’ sharp pocketknives

Warm union suits, an’ oodles of snoose

Mistletoe belt buckles polished for use

Santa regarded the tableau with pleasure

Waddies were tickled with each Christmas treasure

The Big Empty echoed with all o’ their laughter

An’ Heaven was happy right up to the rafters

So Cookie or Santa snuck away from the camp

And the cowboys playing in the campfire light

The last word they heard from the jolly ol’ scamp

Was “Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night”

Rod Miller can be reached at: RodsMillerWyo@yahoo.com