Postage for 3,000 Christmas cards would run
close to $1,000.00, so here's my Christmas
card to the group.
T'was the night before Christmas,
and down in each hive,
we hoped bees were stirring,
we hoped they were alive.
The stores had been fed in fall with great care,
in hope that the clusters would not form elsewhere.
The veils and hive tools all hung on their hooks,
as in winter beekeepers work wood and read books.
With the wife baking bread, and I a single-malt,
we would say of any dead-outs "clearly not our fault".
When out in the fields - a sound like a rock smashing rock,
I spilled my drink, dropped my book, slapped a clip in a Glock.
Out the door sprang the dog like a guided cruise missile.
I followed, running through the burdock and thistle.
The moon was "new", which meant no moon at all.
It was darker and blacker than the devil's back hall.
But night-vision goggles are light-weight and cheap.
I slowly moved forward - the dog made not a peep.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
not a sleigh, not a fat guy, no reindeer, no plain deer.
I knew in a moment, it had to be a bear,
the hives were all scattered,
some here, and some there.
I thought to myself, "This just cannot do!
Mr. Bear, I must choose, and it ain't gonna be you."
This was a decision that was filled with great stress,
but in the grand scheme of things,
what's one bear, more or less?
But the bear was THERE - a big 'un.
And me with such a little gun.
He turned and he saw me, or maybe it was scent.
I had only a 9mm.
I knew what that meant.
The bear SPOKE (It was Christmas Eve midnight, when animals speak)
"Gosh, don't blame me, I haven't eaten for a week.
And you only brought a PISTOL?
Wow, what a treat!
I'll forget your silly beehives - I want fresh meat!
You can shoot your pea-shooter, but you're my dinner, you must confess.
After all, in the grand scheme of things,
what's one beekeeper, more or less?"
He sprang with paws splayed, his claws made the air whistle.
I hoped some of me would be found - maybe gristle.
...Then I heard my wife exclaim, as the bear faded from sight:
You've fallen asleep by the fire, and on Christmas Eve night!