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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required The foreman and his missus Had invited me to share Their supper on this Christmas Eve And to join their evening prayer. Their little ones with shining eyes Gazed at the Christmas tree, Excited about their Christmas socks And the presents they would see. I walked back to the bunkhouse Beneath a cloudless sky, Searching to find the Christmas star Still shining there on high. The bunkhouse was warm, but lonesome With no other cowpokes there. They'd all gone home for Christmas. I pretended not to care. Christmas carols on the radio Brought back thoughts of the star That had shone down on those pastures In that Eastern land so far. Taking off my vest and Sunday shirt, I threw them on the trunk. I stripped down to my underwear And crawled into my bunk. My day had started early. I had worked hard with the crew So they could start their Christmas fun When all the chores were through. With no wife nor kids to need me I had told the rest I'd stay And watch out for the cattle. They could have their Christmas Day. The warm room made me sleepy And I started in to doze. Right there before my bugging eyes The Christmas Star arose. I was a lonely shepherd In that land so far away, Who had been left to guard the sheep Until the break of day. I heard the angels singing And saw the moving star. I marveled at the wonder And glory from afar. The bright star beckoned to me And angels led the way To where the future King of All Lay in the mound of hay. I wanted so to follow them But I had pledged my word. I had to turn a deaf ear to The messages I heard. I knew my solemn duty lay In guarding helpless sheep. I prayed the Lord's forgiveness but The vigil I must keep. The star reflected in the eyes Of creatures all around, Waiting for the lonely stray Or any sheep they found. I could not shirk my duty, To seek Him out that night, But I knew I never would forget That glorious, wondrous sight. I had this dream some years ago, But should that star reappear Ive hung up my rope and saddle. I can follow with no fear. Buy: Joyce Johnson (Posted in Cowboy Poetry. Com Dec. 2007)
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