 |
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
A Soldier's Christmas
Here is another one of my poems. Here it is:
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 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 U.S. 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 IN 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. NO HOSTILES IN SIGHT."
ONE LOOK AT MY WATCH,AND I KNEW HE WAS RIGHT."MERRY CHRISTMAS MY FRIEND,AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT."
|
|
|
|
 |
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
A Soldier's Report to God
This poem is called a Soldier's Report to God. Here it is:
The Soldier stood and faced his God, which must always come to pass
He hoped his shoes were shining, just as brightly as his brass
"Step forward now, you Soldier, how shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?To my Church have you been true?"
The Soldier squared his shoulders and said, "No Lord, I guess I ain't
Because those of us who carry guns, can't always be a saint.
I've had to work most Sundays, and at times my talk was tough,
And sometimes I've been violent, because the streets are awfully rough
But, I never took a penny, that wasn't mine to keep.
Though I worked a lot of overtime, when the bills just got steep,
And I never passed a cry for help, though at times I shook with fear,
And sometimes, God forgive me, I've wept unmanly tears.
I know I don't deserve a place, among the people here
They never wanted me around, except to calm their fears.
If you've a place for me here, Lord it needn't be so grand,
I never expected or had too much, but if you don't I'll understand."
There was silence all around the throne, where the Saints had often trod
As the Soldier waited quietly, for the judgment of his God.
"Step forward now you Soldier, you've borne your burdens well,
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets; you've done your time in Hell."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
