‘Twas five days before Christmas and time for the scribe
To follow tradition and write ag diatribe.
Farmers’ stockings were hung by the chimney with care
In hopes Mister Vanclief would soon put cheques there.
As rumour would have it, Vanclief had a plan
To fix up farm programs and make farmer fans.
He came west this summer to check out the drought
He spoke and he chatted, he stumbled about.
He talked about water, he talked about pain
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Went back east and talked more, concern did he feign.
As crop years do go, this one had some mixed blessings,
Too dry or too wet or enough to keep pressing.
There were rallies and beef bans and high fuel prices,
Elevators demolished and census devices,
Combine treks, early harvest and decent cow money,
Gophers so hungry and weather so sunny.
And then what to our horrified eyes did appear
But Osama bin Laden and planes full of fear.
All ag thoughts, they stopped, the world changed in a day.
Then things stumbled on and no terror held sway.
On markets! On hog barns! On combines and balers! On pulse crops! On silage! Goodbye terrorist jailers!
World trade guys, they met in a Middle East location
Decided to talk in the World Trade Organization.
The weather took tolls on the harvested crop
And farmers did wonder when bad luck would stop.
They thought about terror and thought about peace
They thought about profits’ increase or decrease.
Then laying their fingers aside of their noses
They did a small jig and they kicked up their toeses.
Next year country, it beckons and things will get better
Because prices will rise and the weather will get wetter.
So let’s look to a new year, what a beautiful sight
Happy Christmas to all and to all a good night.
