by Steve Gilliland
Twas the night before Christmas but our deer camp was shaken
Not a hunter was happy cause’ no deer had been taken.
Our deer tags were hung by the chimney with care
In hopes that some big bucks soon would be there.
We hunters all snoozed in our long johns of red
While visions of jerky swirled in our head.
Our snoring echoed like growling inside
And the air carried odors I shouldn’t describe
The moon on the crest of the new fallen snow
Made our junky old house trailer twinkle and glow
When out in the woods there arose such a clatter
I sprang from my bunk and fell down the ladder.
Lucky for me I lit’ on my head
But I horsed-up my back and busted the bed
I limped to the window and what did appear
But a miniature sleigh and eight TROPHY reindeer.
I yelled for the guys to bail out of bed
And they soon filled the windows to stare at the sled.
When they all saw the reindeer a hush filled the room
As their huge antlers gleamed in the light of the moon.
Could this be St Nick and his magic reindeer?
And what in tarnation are they doin’ out here?
Each hunter had scattered to get to his gun;
I had to work fast before the shootin’ begun.
I grabbed my own rifle as I ran toward the sled
And fired several warning shots over their head.
“That should do it” I thought, “That should chase them away”
But it scared them so badly they tipped over the sleigh.
I fell to the ground and covered my head
Certain there’d be shootin’ and the deer would be dead.
But instead all my buddies stood quietly by
And pointed at something bright in the sky.
A star in the east shone so brightly that night
That we all stood there awestruck, solemn and quiet.
St Nick and the “boys” used this chance to vamoose
And streaked through the woods like an on-fire caboose
As for me and the guys, we slunk back inside
And nothing was hurt that night but our pride.
So just as the star on that first Christmas eve
Brought a savior to us for all who believe,
Its brilliance tonight once again lit the way
For St Nick to escape with his reindeer and sleigh.
And I heard him exclaim as they raced out of sight
Rudolph you blockhead, what were you thinking?
Of all the stupid places to land, in a deer hunting camp no less?
You nearly made this the last Christmas for all of us!
Seriously, if you try that again, I’ll personally hang your head in MY workshop
Bright red nose and all!
Merry Christmas from Steve and Joyce at Exploring Kansas Outdoors
