Thursday, December 08, 2005

I don;t normaly post this kind of stuff.. but this is an exception.

>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 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, 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."
>"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 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 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 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, "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.

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