It's the night before Christmas, we're out in the barn, Blanketing horses to
keep them all warm, They're eating their dinners, tucked in cozy stalls, Not
aware that it's Christmas, or any special day at all.
They can dream of spring pastures from their pine-scented beds, No
visions of sugarplums dance in their heads, But we people are thinking of
merry parties and such, Maybe feeling a little sad at missing so much.
This season is special but the horses don't know, We've got work to do
before we can go, We finish the chores and head on inside, To get ready for
dinner and our own yuletide.
It's nearly midnight, the carols are sung, I remember a story I was told
when I was young, How at midnight on Christmas Eve, The creatures of the
barnyard can speak to us with ease.
I am called to the barn, I wade through the rain, I know I must go, I
can't really explain, I slide open the door, pause for a while, Then slowly
walk down the dimly lit aisle.
A nicker from Casey, a wink from JD, Sleepy old Alibi waking to see,
Tucker rustling his bedding, a snort soft and light, Each horse gave a
greeting as I walked through the night.
I thought about parties bright lit and warm, The ones we don't go to
'cause we have the barn, And vacations and holidays that we don't get, When
we're working long hours for bills to be met.
Walking all the way to the end of the aisle, I stop to stroke Bonnie, it
brings me a smile, She snuffles my face, hot breath on my skin, It starts me
to thinking about my horses, my kin.
I could be at parties with laughter and mirth, But where I am right now
is the best place on Earth.
