Christmas Way Out West

Christmas is a comin, an’

all across the West,

lists are bein’ written to put Santa

to the test.

Country kids are wond’rin if he’ll

really fill the bill –

soon it’ll be Christmas mornin’ – won’t that be a thrill?

Tommy wants a King rope and Sally wants some reins,

braided out of rawhide, the kind with jinglin’ chains.

A saddle is the hearts’ desire of Joe on Willow Crick,

while Peg, up on the mountain, wants a harness for her pig.

Callie wants a pony – all spotted black and white –

she’s waited months to see him, arrivin’ Christmas night.

Sam is into tractors, in miniature of Dad’s,

John Deere is the only thing to suit this little lad.

His brother wants some wrenches so he can fix the truck,

while Cody wants a riggin’ for “bare’s” that really buck.

Andy wants a shearing comb to tidy up his sheep,

Cindy wants a heating lamp for tiny chicks that peep.

Kay wants an incubator to hatch the little things,

while Bobby wants a bow to make his arrows sing.

Mary wants some books to read, the cowgirl romance kind,

and Gary wants some puzzles to sharpen up his mind.

Jason wants a bull rope, with a bright and shiny bell,

Candice needs a recorder, for stories that she tells.

Quentin ordered bronc spurs, with rowels that are sharp,

Tammy wants a puppy, with a bright and laughing bark.

Nygil wants a pager, computer an’ such things,

while Kathleen is dreamin’ of a diamond – in a ring.

Tabbie wants some rubber barrels, so bumpin’

them won’t hurt,

Jack needs a cultivator, for stirrin’ up the dirt.

Angie wants a broomstick skirt, for wearin’ to the ball,

an’ Bridget wants a Breyer horse – ‘cause she’s not into dolls.

Roger needs a Stetson hat, the kind his grandpa wore,

Leroy asked for a Hampshire pig, a smooth an’ sturdy boar.

The elves have scurried wide an’ far, to fill

these special needs,

the sleigh is laden to “overflow” – big load for reindeer steeds.

All the harness is repaired, Rudolph polished up his nose,

Santa’s catchin’ extra zzzz’s – in a state of deep repose.

Seems like some things never change, ol’ Santa sure is one –

you can always count on him, like the risin’ of the sun.

So, come December twenty-fifth, the West,

you’ll find, is glowin’

with rays of joy from all the grins those

cowboy kids are showin’.

– Rhonda Sedgewick Stearns