Merry Christmas Trappers; Trapper Poem
A poem that I found in my inbox this morning, figured I better pass it on!
‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the fur shed,
Not a creature was stirring cause all were quite dead.
The stretchers were hung by the wood stove with care,
so the pelts would all dry fore the buyer got there.
The traps were all set, secure in their beds,
jaws open and waiting for a critters foot-pads.
The trappers were snoozing, warm in fur caps,
just settling in for a short winter nap.
When out in the field there arose such a racket,
They sprang to their feet, grabbed the gun from its bracket.
Up to the window they flew like a flash,
and across to the trees they could see something thrash.
The moon shining down on the new fallen snow
gave brightness of midday to objects below.
And what, to their wondering eyes did appear,
but an outstretched snare round the leg of a deer!
A non-target catch, the worst of their fears,
They had to do something before PETA came near...
Then a little old fellow, lively and quick,
appeared from the tree line he was clearly St. Nick!
He whistled and shouted, called his deer by name:
Now Dasher! Now Dancer! Now Prancer and Vixen!
On Comet, on Cupid, on Dunder and Blixen!
Ol Rudolphs been caught! Now what should we do?
he might become somebodys venison stew!
No fear! cried the trappers as they ran from the shed,
Stay there and well help him. Dont lose your head!
St. Nick turned around to the source of the sound,
and saw the trappers all coming, right toward him in bound,
They were dressed all in furs from their heads to their feet,
yet held not a gun, but a catch pole, for Rudolphs release.
They looped round his head and held him firm to the snow,
as he kicked and he snorted, his nose all aglow.
Santa watched as the trappers unwound the noose,
slipped out Rudolfs hoof and let him go loose.
His eyes, how they twinkled! His smile, so merry!
Santa beamed at the trappers, for they were not so scary.
Well, fellows, he chuckled, with a gleam in his eye,
Youve truly saved Christmas, again we can fly!
Then he spoke not a word and went back to his sleigh,
harnessed his team; took off up and away.
The trappers all watched as he flew cross the lane,
Rudolphs nose sparkling bright as a flame.
He circled around once more toward the shed,
with a wave of his hand and a nod of his head,
and they heard him exclaim as he flew out of sight,
Merry Christmas to the trappers, keep doin it right!
By E.Willingham
Merry Christmas Trappers!
On behalf of Marilyn and Myself @ Canadian Coyote Company Ltd
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