By Else Lunden – Sorrento, B.C.
We’re out of meat so my man is away
Hunting for moose with wagon or sleigh
He spends the night in the cabin so warm
Out of the cold and away from all harm.
There’s hot coffee and bacon, eggs and brown beans
To eat with his biscuits, but spills on his jeans
Morning comes early, no time to waste
The moose is arriving on the cutline, make haste.
The gun is all cocked and hopes that he might
Shoot that beast fairly when it gets in his sight
Bang! echoes loudly in the forest around
He’s been successful, the moose dead on the ground.
He dresses it out and starts home with his load,
How happy he whistles in the sleigh down the road.
The horses are jingling their bells as they go,
Trodding along willingly through the deep snow.
I and the family greet him with joy,
There’s meat for the table, Johnny shouts, “Oh boy!”
We help with the unloading and butcher all night
In the morning we’re exhausted but the job’s done right.
Steaks on the stove for breakfast that day,
We now count our blessings
as we all bow to pray
In thanks for the bounty,
the good Lord’s provision,
He shares it with us, though it’s really all His’n.