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A Soldier's Christmas Poem
The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room
and I cherished the sight. My wife was asleep, her head on my
chest, my daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
Outside
the snow fell, a blanket of white, Transforming the yard to a winter
delight. The sparkling lights in the tree, I believe, Completed
the magic that was Christmas Eve.
My eyelids were heavy, my
breathing was deep, Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep in perfect contentment, or so it would seem. So I slumbered, perhaps I
started to dream.
The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too
near, But I opened my eye when it tickled my ear. Perhaps just a
cough, I didn't quite know, Then the sure sound of footsteps outside in
the snow.
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear, and I crept to the door just to see who was near. Standing out in the
cold and the dark of the night, A lone figure stood, his face weary and
tight.
A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold. Alone in the dark, he looked
up and smiled, Standing watch over me, and my wife and my
child.
"What are you doing?" I asked without fear "Come
in this moment, it's freezing out here! Put down your pack, brush the
snow from your sleeve, You should be at home on a cold Christmas
Eve!"
For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift, away
from the cold and the snow blown in drifts, to the window that danced
with a warm fire's light then he sighed and he said "Its really all
right, I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night"
"Its my duty to stand at the front of the line, that separates you from
the darkest of times. No one had to ask or beg or implore me, I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps
died at 'Pearl on a day in December," then he sighed, "That's a
Christmas 'Gram always remembers." My dad stood his watch in the jungles
of 'Nam And now it is my turn and so, here I am.
I've
not seen my own son in more than a while, But my wife sends me pictures,
he's sure got her smile. Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his
bag, The red white and blue... an American flag.
"I can
live through the cold and the being alone, Away from my family, my house
and my home, I can stand at my post through the rain and the
sleet, I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat, I can carry
the weight of killing another or lay down my life with my sisters and
brothers who stand at the front against any and all, to insure
for all time that this flag will not fall."
"So go back inside,"
he said, "harbor no fright Your family is waiting and I'll be all
right." "But isn't there something I can do, at the least, "Give
you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little
for all that you've done, For being away from your wife and your
son."
Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret, "Just tell us you love us, and never forget To fight for our rights back
at home while we're gone. To stand your own watch, no matter how
long.
For when we come home, either standing or dead, to
know you remember we fought and we bled is payment enough, and with that
we will trust. That we mattered to you as you mattered to
us.
By Michael Marks, Christmas 2000
Thank the troops!
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