[AT] Fwd: A DIFFERENT CHRISTMAS POEM

[Richard Fink Sr]

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>A DIFFERENT CHRISTMAS  POEM
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>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.
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>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.
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>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.
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>"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!"
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>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."
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>"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.
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>My  Gramps died at 'Pearlon 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.
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>Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
>The red, white,  and blue... an American flag.
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>"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."
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>"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."
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>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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