Long Cowboy westernchristmas Poems

A Lonely Christmas

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)