Christmas Poem

With a difference

The previous page was: "Christmas and Heroes"

Christmas Poem by Chris Smith (Ski-patrol) Royal Marine Ret.

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 garden 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 eyes 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 there! 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. It's 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 Grandfather died in France' on a day in December." Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas 'Gran always remembers. My dad stood his watch in the jungles of Burma 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... a Union 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 trench with little to eat. I can carry the weight of killing another, or lay down my life with my sister and brother. Who stand at the front against any and all, to ensure for all time that this flag will not fall."

"So go back inside," he said, "harbour 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 a bob or two," 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."

PLEASE, would you do me the kind favour of sending this to as many people as you can? Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due to our Armed 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.

Chris Smith (Ski-patrol) Royal Marine Ret

Christmas and Heroes

THE FINAL INSPECTION

The soldier squared his shoulders and said, "no, Lord, I guess I ain't. Because those of us who carry guns, can't always be a saint." I've had to work most Sundays, and at times my talk was tough. And sometimes I've been violent, Because the world is awfully rough.

But, I never took a penny, that wasn't mine to keep. Though I worked a lot of overtime, when the bills got just too steep. And I never passed a cry for help, though at times I shook with fear. And sometimes, God, forgive me, I've wept unmanly tears.

I know I don't deserve a place, among the people here. They never wanted me around, except to calm their fears. If you've a place for me here, Lord, it needn't be so grand. I never expected or had too much, but if you don't, I'll understand.

There was a silence all around the throne, where the saints had often trod. As the soldier waited quietly, for the judgment of his God. 'Step forward now, you soldier, you've borne your burdens well. Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets, you've done your time in Hell.'

Author Unknown~

Modern-day Pages Fast Boats Pages Joe Wezley Pages

It's the Military, not the reporter who has given us the freedom of the press. It's the Military, not the poet, who has given us the freedom of speech. It's the Military, not the politicians that ensures our right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. It's the Military who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag.

If you care to offer the smallest token of recognition and appreciation for the military, then please pass this on and pray for our men and women who have served and are currently serving our country and pray for those who have given the ultimate sacrifice for our freedom.

The next Link below will be: "Gibraltar"

Christmas Poem Gibraltar

"Pirates Trilogy" $20