‘TWAS five days before Christmas and all through the fields,
The farmers were counting the coins from their yields.
Their stockings were hung on the barn door with care
In hopes higher stock prices soon would be there.
The farm boys were wrestling the facts in their heads
Of grain prices high but livestock in the red.
And Steve in his pinstripe and Ritz in his jeans
Had just settled down to assess farming’s means.
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When out on the land there arose such a clatter
They all seized the paper to read on the matter.
Biodiesel, it said, and some ethanol too
The projects announced had been many and new.
With a major new driver, and limitless range
The reason behind it was called climate change.
On wheat and on barley! On corn and on oats!
And canola! And sugar! And willow and groats!
It might all make fuel, the paper did say,
And farms could make money in one more big way.
More rapid than eagles, the farm news it came,
Some good and some bad and none ever the same.
Except for the wheat board; the old debate raged
Three questions, one ballot on barley were gauged.
The border, it opened to cows of all ages
And ranchers were seeking a boost in their wages.
But the loonie surged big and it brought them some pain,
High hopes for more trading were thus on the wane.
And what is a crop year without weather wild?
There was hail and tornadoes and nothing too mild.
Raindrops, how they twinkled! The heat wave, how hairy!
And the rain during harvest made everyone wary.
It was good, bad and ugly in two thousand seven
But out here in the West we are closer to heaven.
Ahead lies the season of joy and of light
Happy Christmas to all and to all a good night.
