A SOLDIERS CHRISTMAS POEM BY: LANCE CORPORAL JAMES M SCHMIDT 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 se who in this home did live. I looked all about, a strange sight did I see No tinsel , no presents not even a tree. No stocking by mantle, just boots filled with sand, and on the their were pictures of distant lands. The soldier ly sleeping, silent and alone, Curled upon the floor in his one bedroom home. His face was so gentle,The room in such disorder, Not how I pictured United States Soldier. Was this the hero of whom I just read? Curled up on a poncho, the floor for his 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 this bright Christmas day. They enjoyed freedom each month of the year, because of soldiers like the one lying here. I couldnt 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 I started to cry. The soldier awakened and I heard a rough voice, Santa, dont cry this was my choice. I fight for freedom I dont ask for more, my life is my GOD my country my Corp. The soldier rolled over and drifted to sleep, I Couldnt control it , I started to weep. I kept watch for hours, so silent and still, and we were both shivering from the cold evenings chill. I didnt 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, Carry on Santa its Christmas day, all is secure. one look at my watch and I knew he was right, Merry Christmas my fri Write a comment... A SOLDIERS CHRISTMAS POEM BY: LANCE CORPORAL JAMES M SCHMIDT 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 who in this home did live. I looked all about, a strange sight did I see No tinsel , no presents not even a tree. No stocking by mantle, just boots filled with sand, and on the their were pictures of distant lands. The soldier ly sleeping, silent and alone, Curled upon the floor in his one bedroom home. His face was so gentle,The room in such disorder, Not how I pictured United States Soldier. Was this the hero of whom I just read? Curled up on a poncho, the floor for his 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 this bright Christmas day. They enjoyed freedom each month of the year, because of soldiers like the one lying here. I couldnt 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 I started to cry. The soldier awakened and I heard a rough voice, Santa, dont cry this was my choice. I fight for freedom I dont ask for more, my life is my GOD my country my Corp. The soldier rolled over and drifted to sleep, I Couldnt control it , I started to weep. I kept watch for hours, so silent and still, and we were both shivering from the cold evenings chill. I didnt 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, Carry on Santa its 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. E
Posted on: Wed, 23 Oct 2013 01:18:50 +0000
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