nonsmoker2008
New Member
apologies if already posted...
This poem was written by a Peacekeeping soldier stationed overseas. The following is his request.
A Very Special Personal Christmas Message
------------------------------------------
T'was the night before Christmas, he lived all alone,
In a one bedroomed 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 around, a strange sight I did see,
No tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
No stocking by the 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.
I found the home of a solider, once I could see clearly,
The solider lay sleeping, silent, alone,
Curled up on the floor, in this one bedroom home.
The face was so gentle, the room in disorder,
Not how I pictured, a true British solider.
Was this the hero, of whom I'd just read?
Curled up on a poncho, the floor for a bed.
I realised 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.
O 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 solider 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 did not want to leave, on that cold, dark night,
This guardian of honor, so willing to fight.
Then the solider rolled over, with 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 Peacekeeping soldier stationed overseas. The following is his request.
A Very Special Personal Christmas Message
------------------------------------------
T'was the night before Christmas, he lived all alone,
In a one bedroomed 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 around, a strange sight I did see,
No tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
No stocking by the 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.
I found the home of a solider, once I could see clearly,
The solider lay sleeping, silent, alone,
Curled up on the floor, in this one bedroom home.
The face was so gentle, the room in disorder,
Not how I pictured, a true British solider.
Was this the hero, of whom I'd just read?
Curled up on a poncho, the floor for a bed.
I realised 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.
O 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 solider 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 did not want to leave, on that cold, dark night,
This guardian of honor, so willing to fight.
Then the solider rolled over, with 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."
