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I wrote this poem in three days. Tell me what you think. Here ya go slink =)
A Soldiers Christmas
BY: Matt Cowart (Razio)
T’was 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 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 humbling thought
Came into my mind.
For this house was different,
It was dark and was 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 real hero
Of whom I’d just read?
Curled up on a poncho,
The floor for a bed?
I realized all the families
That I came to this night
Owed their freedom to these soldiers
Who are willing to fight.
Soon round the world,
The children would play,
And grownups would revel
In a bright Christmas day.
They all enjoyed freedom,
Each month of the year,
Because of these 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 I started to cry.
The soldier awakened
And I heard a rough voice,
“Santa don’t cry,
This life is my choice.
Because I fight for Freedom,
I don’t ask for more,
My life is for God,
My country, my Corps.”
The soldier rolled over
And soon drifted to sleep,
I couldn’t control it,
I continued to weep.
I kept watch for hours,
So silent and still,
We both shivered
From the cold nights chill.
I didn’t want to leave
On that cold, dark night,
This American soldier who
Was so willing to fight.
Then the soldier rolled over,
With a voice calm and pure,
Whispered “Carry on Santa,
It’s Christmas Day, all is secure.”
With this poem I appreciate the sacrifice of so many young Americans for their sacrifice for our freedom in the first and second world wars. Please help by contributing to the WWII memorial fund. It’s time we said thanks.
Air Force – Myself
Army – My grandpa
Marines – My buddy Noel
Navy – My granpas brother Gilbert
Well, tell me what you think. Thanks.
I'm John Handy, I'm down from Canada.
A Soldiers Christmas
BY: Matt Cowart (Razio)
T’was 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 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 humbling thought
Came into my mind.
For this house was different,
It was dark and was 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 real hero
Of whom I’d just read?
Curled up on a poncho,
The floor for a bed?
I realized all the families
That I came to this night
Owed their freedom to these soldiers
Who are willing to fight.
Soon round the world,
The children would play,
And grownups would revel
In a bright Christmas day.
They all enjoyed freedom,
Each month of the year,
Because of these 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 I started to cry.
The soldier awakened
And I heard a rough voice,
“Santa don’t cry,
This life is my choice.
Because I fight for Freedom,
I don’t ask for more,
My life is for God,
My country, my Corps.”
The soldier rolled over
And soon drifted to sleep,
I couldn’t control it,
I continued to weep.
I kept watch for hours,
So silent and still,
We both shivered
From the cold nights chill.
I didn’t want to leave
On that cold, dark night,
This American soldier who
Was so willing to fight.
Then the soldier rolled over,
With a voice calm and pure,
Whispered “Carry on Santa,
It’s Christmas Day, all is secure.”
With this poem I appreciate the sacrifice of so many young Americans for their sacrifice for our freedom in the first and second world wars. Please help by contributing to the WWII memorial fund. It’s time we said thanks.
Air Force – Myself
Army – My grandpa
Marines – My buddy Noel
Navy – My granpas brother Gilbert
Well, tell me what you think. Thanks.
I'm John Handy, I'm down from Canada.
