Not a pony was stirring, all warm in the barn.

The bales were all stacked in the hayloft with care,

In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

The rescues were nestled all snug in their stalls

Dreaming of forever homes to answer their calls.

With visions of comfort, blankets and food,

They all  hoped that someone would just see them through.

When out in the pasture a sound made them spook,

Except for the deaf one, known as Old Luke.

They peered out the windows waiting with fear,

And noticed a sleigh but no tiny reindeer.

And then the old man, a cowboy hat on his head,

With a handlebar mustache and all dressed in red,

Lit up a stogie with an old silver Bic,

And gave them a nod-it was St. Nick!!

He had spurs on his boots and carried a rope,

A gun on his hip with a heart full of hope.

His eyes they did twinkle in the chilly night air;

He was quiet and tender, fearless and fair.

The old man approached with a bow legged gait

As the horses all watched, unaware of their fate.

He looked them all over from head down to shoe.

A smile crept on his face:  "Oh yes, this will do."

My team has retired, in greener pastures they dwell,

But I've found my replacements-you all will do well.

There was doubt in the herd, these rescues unsure,

But St. Nick was here to give them the cure.

He offered a second chance and a purpose in life,

A happy ending to a story where before there was strife.

And so it was settled, their past was now dead,

And the cowboy tacked them up to pull his big sled.

Now moon!!  Now Comet!!  Now Snow and Bramble!!

On Luci!!  On Lily!!  On Oden and Sassy!!

And so they took flight neath the moonlight so pale,

Old Luke still remembers, reliving the tale:

Of a group of unwanted, neglected, throw aways

And how they went on to enjoy happier days.

Remember the forgotten, the restless, the weak,

The starved and abused, the cold and the meek.

Remember the needy this holiday night,

And think of St. Nick and his rescues in flight!!

~Heather Robb