Homeless on Christmas Eve

Homeless on Christmas Eve

Alone in a box on the prairie
On this night, a cold Christmas Eve
Without a tree or a garland
Just a candle and two bags of beans

The box is a small Winnebago
The living is tight, but it’s fair
To say that it blocks out the north winds
And keep all the critters out there.

On this night the winds have stopped howling
The coyotes singing their song
And laughing out loud in the moonlight
At the strange box that doesn’t belong.

Inside I remember the good times
In a real home with water and heat
Decorated from tip-top to bottom
With holiday cheer and good treats.

And a tree perforated with presents
So many they filled up the room
And friends came to feast and be merry
Midst holly and poinsettias’ bloom.

Three children would wake in the morning
Wide-eyed and eager to see
What wonders that Santa had left them
In piles that buried the tree.

No Christmas glee here on the prairie
All alone with no one to cheer
Excepting myself with my banjo
As I watch out for Santa’s reindeer

I sing all the hymns and the carols
Of Rudolph and Timothy, too,
A daring but sweet little tow-truck
That helps Santa get out of a stew.

Then coyotes join in the chorus
A horse whinnies far to the right
A trillion stars dance up above me
Fine family for this Christmas night.

So here I am homeless on Christmas
In an old rolling motor-type home
Counting my blessings and wondering
How I wound up this old rolling stone.
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Line count: 40
Writer's Cramp Entry (Winner!) 12-23-11