Christmas Poem by Don Jessop
T’was the night before Christmas and all through the farm,
not a creature was stirring, nor causing alarm.
The fences were mended and stalls all cleaned well,
but something was missing, some kind of old smell.
Sure, farms had an odor, some more than others,
like down the road, with the cow smell that smothers.
But this farm had horses, not pigs, goats, or chickens,
and something was missing, like the stories from dickens.
And suddenly it stuck me, with clear forward thinking.
What’s missing was sugar, and holiday baking.
In all of my hurry, and single mind focus,
I found I’d played horsey, for too long to notice.
Some call me crazy and thoughtless and distant,
but just ask my horses, they’d say I’m persistent.
What can I say, I’m addicted to horses,
ask my friends, my neighbors, my teachers from courses.
I’ve found myself lost in my passion for creatures,
and I’ve forgotten of Christmas and all that it features.
But fear not dear readers, I’m just inches away,
from revealing my system for treats on the day.
With buckets and scoops, and a peppermint treat,
I’ll make sweetie confections that no one can beat.
My horses will love them, and never forget,
how on Christmas eve I’ve remembered my pets.
And oops… once again, I’m caught in the movement,
focused on horses and bent on improvement.
I guess that’s the life of a horse loving loon,
because being near horses, can’t happen to soon.
With New Year's so close I can’t help but feel,
will I remember to eat, to work, to be real?
I feel I must warn you, my dear normal friends
I’m mad about horses, and don’t mean to offend.
But look, if you need me, not near the house.
I won’t be caught baking like a good little mouse
I’ll be at the barn with my four legged friends,
counting the days, till spring comes again.
Merry Christmas
Don and Rachel Jessop
