fiordilisosiamese

The soldier stood and faced God,
Which must always come to pass,
He hoped his shoes were shining,
Just as brightly as his brass.

"Step forward now you soldier,
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To my church have you been true?"

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 just got 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 judgement 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

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, and whose coffin is draped by the Flag.

If you care to offer the smallest token of recognition and appreciation for the Military, 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 Freedom.

He lived all alone, in a one bedroom house, made of plaster and stone.
I had come down the chimey, with presents to give,
And to see just who, in this home did live!
I looked all about, a strangesight I did see,
No tinsel no presents. not even a tree.
No stocking by mantle, just boots filled with sand,
On the wall hung pictures of far distant land.
With medals and badges, awards of all kinds,
A sober thought came to my mind.
For this house was different, it was dark and dreary,
I found the home of a soldier, once I could see clearly.
The soldier ly 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 British soldier.
Was this the hero, of whom I 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 grown ups would celebrate, a bright Christmas Day!
They all enjoyed freedom, each month of the year,
Becuse of the 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 started to cry.
The soldier awakened, aand I heard a rough voice,
" Santa don't cry, the life is my choice,
I fight for freedom, I don't ask for more
My life is my God, my country my corpse."
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 didn't want to leave, on that cold dark night,
This guardian of honour, so willing to fight.
Then the soldier rolled over, with a 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 "

Piczo