The Lone Soldier at Christmas..
T'WAS 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 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 poem was written by a Marine.
posted by Shaggy @ 5:54 AM
4 Comments:
BJ is reading Mshairi's blog rubbing off on you? Maybe soon we will see some poetry that comes from you?
Nice poem
Uaridi - am actually a pretty good poet and will post some of my poems for all to see.
Take care...
Mke Nyumbani :Todays recipes tomorrows disasters"
ingridents
2 blood stained ole ntimama pangas
1 thieving ruto hand(1992 vintage)
87kgs.of a power hungry raila
1 Nyanza province size grabbed land from uhuru
2oz of mutula's brain(that defended kanu for more than 15 years)
1/4 pound kalonzos diplomatic dawa
5 drops of tribal hatred at every press confrence
3 ounces of wit and headline grabbing antics
2 scoops of daily standard propaganda
1 doze of slanted ktn reporting
4 demonstrations &
3 secret trips to britain to seek instructions and award future government contracts
instructions
Add all the ingridents into a Bowl of Political Rallies.
Stir carefully and ask no deep questions. and bake for 3 years
presentation
4 foreign diplomats to give it a scent of legitimacy 10 african diplomats to give it continuental credit ,sprinkled with some remaining ktn slanted reporting ,glazed with an extra schoop of standard propaganda .
AND YOU HAVE AN ORANGE DISASTER CAKE
WARNING;
(in small print)
Consume quickly dont ask important question Now.
Ask when we are in power fighting over the next MOU.
Political ideologies and public policies not required .
Development cannot be garanteed.
Anon - Someone just mini blogged some bull on my site...
Had to be anon coz they have no
B%#@s to identify themselves and write something that makes sense..
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