~T’was The Night Before Christmas by Mr. Sheep~

lambs sheared 079


T’was the night before Christmas, When all around the farm Not a creature was stirring, not even in the barn. The lights on the farmhouse were all strung with care, In hopes that St. Nicholas would remember those there.

The piggies were snoring deep in straw beds, While the bees buzzed with visions of flowers in their heads. And Aunt Baaa in her fleece coat, and I in my wool cap, Had just snuggled in for a long winters nap.

When out on the hill the sheep began to scatter, I ran from the shed to see what was the matter. Away to the fence, I flew with a dash, Poked my head through and undid the latch.

The moon shining down on a blanket of snow, Illuminated the barnyard and objects to and fro. When what to my jaw dropping gaze did appear, But a large metal object and eight flying deer.

With a small bearded driver so lively and slick, I knew in an instant it must be St. Nick. More rapid than Rowdy chasing after a cat, And louder than an Italian while waving his hat.

“Come on Dasher and Dancer! Now Prancer and Vixen! On Comet and Cupid! On Donner and Blitzen! To the top of the fence! To the top of the rail! Dash away, dash away, dash away sail!”

As feathers that before a plains wind will fly, When they meet with an object, rise to the sky. So up to the barn roof the whole party flew, With the sleigh full of sacks and the old driver too.

And then in a moment, I heard from the roof, The stamping and stomping of each little hoof. As I drew back my head and was turning around, Down the cupola St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed up in coveralls, a red flannel and clogs, And was then warmly greeted by the horses and dogs. A bundle of corn he had flung on his back, And he looked like a farmer bringing a snack.

His eyes–how they sparkled! His dimples so merry! His cheeks were like a sunrise, His nose like a berry! His droll little mouth was drawn up in a smile, And his beard was whiter than Fred’s snow pile.

A thin piece of wood he held tight in his teeth, And the smoke flowing out caused the chickens to sneeze. He had a wide face and a well rounded belly, That bounced up and down when he chuckled, like jelly.

He was portly and stout, a right jolly old man, So I felt pretty bad when he tripped on a milk can. The cow gave a sigh and thrust out her tail, And Santa held on and grabbed for a rail.

He turned to the mangers and laid out the feed, Taking time to pet us and see to our needs. Then pausing a moment to rest his sore back, He went to the cupola and rose with his sack.

Once on the roof, he climbed into his sleigh, Gathered the reins calling “up and away!” We then heard him say as he slipped from our sight, “Merry Christmas to all, and to all a blest night!”    


This poem was revised by the Callens family as seen through the eyes of a sheep on our farm on Christmas eve.

Come baby Jesus…..

About Callens Honey Farm

We live on a small family farm located in S.W. Minnesota, near the South Dakota border. The source of our honey is from white and red clover. The honey appears as liquid gold in color. Our honey is extracted using a hand cranked centrifugal force extractor. Then the honey is screened once into a holding container from which we later fill the small honey bottles. We do not heat treat the honey nor add any other ingredients. Pure and natural is our Minnesota honey! What could taste better?
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1 Response to ~T’was The Night Before Christmas by Mr. Sheep~

  1. Fran Syl De Baere says:

    such a great awesome post! merry Christmas, and to all a good nite. Syl

    You do know about Margaret and state of her health, right?


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