WEATHER FROM OUR SPONSORS
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the county
Not a creature was stirring, not even a townie;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
They were soaked way through after a day of mountain air;
All the notable neighbors were snug in their beds;
While visions of rodeo ponies danced in their heads;
Kerchiefs and caps hung dripping with snow,
Because unlike our southern neighbors, we know how winter goes,
When a bellow arose from out on the prairie,
I sprang from my bed the sound was so scary.
I looked out the window and saw a bright flash,
It seemed an old man had been in a crash.
The moon shown high on the rolling hills of snow,
Gave clarity to all of the chaos below,
When all of a sudden I saw something clear,
A miniature wagon and eight-point reindeer,
The ropes and the lassos must have been from King’s
Picked up while at concerts the children all sing.
The little old driver so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
“Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donner and Blixen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the valley!
We’ve yet to check every name on our tally!”
His voice recalled auctions down at the party,
Raising good money for our town that’s so arty,
Sculptures, paintings and acting so clever,
St. Nick aren’t we lucky, in our West forever?
He had a broad face and a big round belly
He must have found goodies down at Killy’s Deli.
He laughed a good laugh and his eyes showed a glint,
He must also have stopped for a drink at The Mint.
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
His mischief reminded me of the elf on my shelf.
He spoke few words, but delivered the loot,
Then turned quickly on the heel of his cowboy boot,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
He gave a short nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sauntered to his wagon, gave his deer a holler,
And away they all flew their task not a bother.
But I heard him call as he drove out of sight—
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”