ES - Poem

Derby, Bill bderby at Corio.com
Mon Dec 20 11:05:49 PST 1999


Not fair, you are not supposed to make me cry at Christmas time.
 
Well done!!!
 
William

-----Original Message-----
From: draeco [mailto:draeco at swbell.net]
Sent: Monday, December 20, 1999 10:56 AM
To: elfsea at ansteorra.org
Subject: ES - Poem


TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS



Twas the night before Christmas,

He lived all alone,

In a one bedroom house made

of plaster and stone.



I had come down the Chimney,

with presents to give,

and to see just who in this 

home did live.



I looked all about, 

A strange sight I did see,

No Tinsel, No Presents,

Not even a tree.

No stocking by the Mantle,

Just Boots filled with sand,

On the wall hung pictures

of Far Distant Lands.



With Medals and Badges,

Awards of all kinds,

A sober thought came 

through my mind.



For this house was different,

It was dark and dreary,

I found the home of a Soldier,

Once I could see clearly.



 

 

The Soldier lay sleeping, 

Silent, Alone

Curled up on the floor

In this one bedroom home.



The face was so Gentle, 

The room in such Disorder,

Not how I pictured

A United States Soldier.



Was this the Hero

Of Whom I'd just read?

Curled up on a poncho,

The floor for a Bed?



I realized the Families

That I saw this night,

Owed Their Lives to these

Soldiers who were willing to

Fight.



Soon round the world,

The Children would play,

And Grownups would Celebrate

A Bright Christmas Day.



They all enjoyed Freedom

Each month of the Year,

Because of the Soldiers,

Like the one lying here.



 

I couldn't help wonder

How many lay alone,

On a cold Christmas Eve

In a land far from Home.



The very thought 

brought a tear to my eye,

I dropped to my knees

and started to cry.



The soldier awakened

and I heard a rough voice,

"Santa Don't Cry, 

This Life is my Choice;



I Fight For Freedom,

I Don't ask for More,

My Life Is My God,

My Country,

My Corps."



The Soldier rolled over

and drifted to sleep,

I couldn't control it,

I continued to weep.



I kept watch for hours,

so silent and still,

and we both shivered

from the cold night's chill.



 

I didn't want to leave

on that cold, dark, night,

This Guardian of Honor 

so willing to fight.



Then the Soldier rolled over,

with a voice soft and pure, 

Whispered, "Carry On Santa, 

It's Christmas Day, all is secure."



One look at my watch,

and I knew he was right.

"Merry Christmas my Friend

And to all a good night."



 

This one is more touching for veterans and their families.

This poem was written by a Marine stationed in Okinawa Japan. The
following is his request. I think it is reasonable.

"Please. Would you do me the kind favor of sending this to as many
people as you can? Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due
to our U.S. service men and women for our being able to celebrate these
festivities. Let's try in this small way to pay a tiny bit of what we
owe. Make people stop and think of our hero's, living and dead, who
sacrificed themselves for us. Please, do your small part to plant this
small seed."

 

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