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Author Topic: TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS, HE LIVED ALL ALONE  (Read 1082 times)
BigRog
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« on: December 21, 2004, 12:40:26 PM »

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 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. 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 heroes, living and dead, who sacrificed themselves for us. Please, do your small part to plant this small seed
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"Lurch my good man,…what did you mean when you said just now that 'You've got better things to do than run my petty little errands'…….?"
Horns Pure Honey
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« Reply #1 on: December 21, 2004, 06:46:25 PM »

I got that from my mom last year, I have already sent it, bye
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« Reply #2 on: December 21, 2004, 11:58:30 PM »

Great Poem Rog:

There are many heroes in trenches long away from home this year and at many time through history across the globe. Today, our youth is too busy looking for heroes on the football fields or basketball courts - I wonder what we are teaching these children if we don't point toward the real heroes.

I know somewhere in New Jersey is a war memorial started by a local childrens baseball team. It is a collection of baseballs, signed with the name of fallen soldiers in our efforts in Iraq. The collection is visually stunning as row after row and column after column of balls make up walls after walls of fallen soldiers - and it is hard for the children and local people to keep up with the KIA numbers.

The funding issues alone of building such an ever growing memorial is staggering and every time a case of baseballs needs to be ordered, a hundred soldiers have fallen.

These kids know who the real heroes are - I hope that they fairly represent the youth and not the ones who look up to over-paid multi-millionaires who can whack a ball out of a park or catch a ball in the end-zone.

Merry Christmas my Friend!
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BigRog
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Location: Richmond, Virginia


« Reply #3 on: December 22, 2004, 05:53:46 AM »

players who can wack a ball out of the park with the magic help of steroids.
Many of todays atheletes do not realise or care that children are looking up to them. Players who use steroids, fight with fans, get arrested for drug use, beating their wives, rape etc and on and on and on should lose their position of priviledge for LIFE gone good bye , Ya didn't make the cut, sure you can play the game, but we don't need you goodbye.
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"Lurch my good man,…what did you mean when you said just now that 'You've got better things to do than run my petty little errands'…….?"
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