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| Christmas Poem | ||
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Moderators: Hardmaps Administrator, *HmS*Wedge, *HmS*grunt, *HmS*Trevor, *HmS*LongBow
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| *HmS*Quick |
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   Registered Member #143 Joined: Mon Mar 29 2004Location: Georgia, USA Posts: 1700 | A Different Kind of Christmas Poem 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, and 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 blue... an 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 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." Now, do your part this Christmas season, and let those fighting for you know how much you appreciate their sacrifice. | ||
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| *HmS*Proteus |
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  Registered Member #1341 Joined: Sat Jul 29 2006Location: Chesterfield, England Posts: 487 |   Great poem mate. [ Edited Wed Dec 16 2009 ] | ||
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| *HmS*Grave Digger |
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 Registered Member #1874 Joined: Tue Oct 02 2007Location: U.S.A./Maryland Posts: 753 | Great poem as I sit here with a tear in my eye. Could some one please put up a happy poem. I don't want to be sad all the time. | ||
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| *HmS*Proteus |
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| Registered Member #1341 Joined: Sat Jul 29 2006Location: Chesterfield, England Posts: 487 | Ok Digger! I'll re-post this from last year 'Twas the fight before Christmas' ‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a gamer was playing, they’re resting their mouse. The stockings were hung and the trimmings looked fine, they all hoped that nova would soon be online. When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter. Out of the window I threw a flash, it blew out the shutters and threw up the sash. The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below. When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a miniature Stryker, and HMS guys with beer. With a little old driver, his rig such an art, I knew in a moment it must be Ole Fart. More rapid than eagles his gamers they came, And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name! "Now Grunt! now, Sniper! now, Echo!, now Shad! BGs on the roof! This could be bad On, KP! On, Jusme! on, Soza! on Wedge! They’re up in the trees and down by the hedge As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, When they met with COOPers, the BGs did cry. The Players they rearmed, a magnificent crew, With the armoury full of M4s, big medpacks too. And then, a Chinook, came in too land flown in by Koevoet with a nade in his hand . As I drew in my head, and was turning around, Down the chimney Sweet Annie came with a bound. She was dressed green, from head to foot, And her clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot. A satchel of M4 she’d put in a sack, She was followed by Exup watching her back. Trevor’s gun flashes twinkled! There’s BGs to bury! Cervessa blasting away, Stedenko looking quite merry! Cardinal blew the target, Quick medded Rainbow, I saw VS blue in the explosion’s glow The pins of nades they held in their teeth, whilst smoke circled Seikodad’s head like a wreath. The Bgs, they fled, no fight in their belly, When Cheech and Chong turned up in a Heli. Hms players are friendly ! All fighting the red, The look on their faces fill BGs with dread. They all speak on VT, it’s easy to work, If you who don’t use it you must be a jerk.! They sprang to the stryker, Ole Fart gave a whistle, They drove out of sight still firing stinger missiles. Then I heard them exclaim, ‘GOOD GAME ALL, OUTA SIGHT!’ "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!" | ||
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| *HmS*Grave Digger |
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| Registered Member #1874 Joined: Tue Oct 02 2007Location: U.S.A./Maryland Posts: 753 | That was very good I didn't see that last year.Thanks lol | ||
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