Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house,
Motorcycles were stored and quiet as a mouse
Here in the north where the cold keeps you snuggled in bed.
Down south they are still riding..or so it is said.

All the motorcycle momma’s have put away their do-rags and leathers and such,
While all the guys have put in Stabil and trickle chargers and that final touch.
Everyone watches the weather report just in case there might be
A break in the winter, another day to ride free.
Then a message comes, “down at the dealership new 18’s have arrived.”
Time to take a look and maybe a test drive.

I like the Street Glide or maybe that Fatboy would look great under the tree.
“I’ll put the Breakout on my list to Santa,” the better-half said with glee.
All this Christmas shopping can be fun but, sometimes a chore.
So much to choose from and just when you think you are finished …oh there is one more.

A thought crossed my mind while shopping, walking the sidewalks of snow.
Just where did the real meaning of Christmas go?
Sure we have the FREEDOM to change it anyway we see fit.
Wish we could go back to a more simple time just a bit.
A time when the Manger Scene didn’t offend those that walked by.
TV wasn’t filled with commercials of silly stuff to buy.
When church bells rang with the song of Silent Night, Silver Bells and Oh Holy Night.
When did Christmas and it’s meaning become such a fight?
When will men of different color stop hating each other
Start to look at their neighbor as a sister or brother!

On the TV there has been such an uproar and clatter.
Seems everyone thinks they know what is the matter.
The NFL protests with taking a knee.
After all they do have that right in the land of the FREE.
Far in the north pole Santa looks at all the bad girls and boys.
Why make the trip to fill their stockings with toys?
Taking out his list he marks names off one by one.
His job will be easy this year and soon will be done.

On a snow covered evening in America there is a plan.
It will bring peace back to our land.
A mother and father kneel this time by a bedside at night.
With FAITH they pray to the FATHER that all will be right.
Let this year be a Christmas that we wake and proclaim.
The only real fix is found in that HOLY name.

Down through the chimney Santa came with a red Harley and a Goldwing or two.
Then with a shout off into the night he flew
Off in the distance as I watched him go out of sight.
Then I heard a voice soft and low, “Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.”

Laster Boggs, Chaplain
Blood Bought Bikers
CMA Chapter 1116
Warsaw, IN 2017