Belleau Wood
Oh, the snowflakes fell in silence
Over belleau wood that night
For a christmas truce had been declared
By both sides of the fight
As we lay there in our trenches
The silence broke in two
By a german soldier singing
A song that we all knew
Though I did not know the language
The song was silent night
Then I heard my buddy whisper,
all is calm and all is bright
Then the fear and doubt surrounded me
cause Id die if I was wrong
But I stood up on my trench
And I began to sing along
Then across the frozen battlefield
Anothers voice joined in
Until one by one each man became
A singer of the hymn
Then I thought that I was dreaming
For right there in my sight
Stood the german soldier
neath the falling flakes of white
And he raised his hand and smiled at me
As if he seemed to say
Heres hoping we both live
To see us find a better way
Then the devils clock struck midnight
And the skies lit up again
And the battlefield where heaven stood
Was blown to hell again
But for just one fleeting moment
The answer seemed so clear
Heavens not beyond the clouds
Its just beyond the fear
No heavens not beyond the clouds
Its for us to find it here
song performed by by Garth Brooks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Lay Down Your Weary Tune
Lay down your weary tune, lay down,
Lay down the song you strum,
And rest yourself neath the strength of strings
No voice can hope to hum.
Struck by the sounds before the sun,
I knew the night had gone.
The morning breeze like a bugle blew
Against the drums of dawn.
Lay down your weary tune, lay down,
Lay down the song you strum,
And rest yourself neath the strength of strings
No voice can hope to hum.
The ocean wild like an organ played,
The seaweeds wove its strands.
The crashin waves like cymbals clashed
Against the rocks and sands.
Lay down your weary tune, lay down,
Lay down the song you strum,
And rest yourself neath the strength of strings
No voice can hope to hum.
I stood unwound beneath the skies
And clouds unbound by laws.
The cryin rain like a trumpet sang
And asked for no applause.
Lay down your weary tune, lay down,
Lay down the song you strum,
And rest yourself neath the strength of strings
No voice can hope to hum.
The last of leaves fell from the trees
And clung to a new loves breast.
The branches bare like a banjo played
To the winds that listened best.
I gazed down in the rivers mirror
And watched its winding strum.
The water smooth ran like a hymn
And like a harp did hum.
Lay down your weary tune, lay down,
Lay down the song you strum,
And rest yourself neath the strength of strings
No voice can hope to hum.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heavenly Soldier
The soldier who died fighting
Now stood at Heavens gate
Would the Lord embrace him?
He waited for his fate
God now asked the soldier
Do you deserve a place
Here with these good people
From the human race?
The soldier thinks awhile
Then tells God his thought
No Lord I'm not perfect
But for my fellow man I fought
I carried a gun, I opened fire,
I threw a hand grenade
I didn't want to kill him
I knelt by him and prayed
I did all this in the call of duty
Killing was not my choice
The army called me up to fight
Me, and many boys
See dear lord I am not bad
For my country I had to serve
I stood shaking, terrified
But I couldn't lose my nerve
The Lord by now had heard enough
His judgement he had made
Come in my son walk through here
Come join the heavenly parade
So now the soldier marches on
Burdens taken from his shoulders
Happy in Heaven serving God
With other fallen soldiers
Encore
The singer stood in a blaze of light,
And fronted the flowery throng;
Her lips parted with her greeting smile,
Her soul soared out in her song.
Now hovering like an imprisoned bird
With is plainings thrilling nigh,
Then faintly sweet, as the reapers hear
A lark afar in the sky;
And forth like thunder the praises broke,
And the singer bowed and smiled,
And flowers fell fast in a scented storm--
But she was not to be wiled.
'Shall I throw my gifts to this fickle throng?'
She thought with a bitter sigh.
'What do they care for my simple song?'
As she courtesied a glad good-by.
The singer sat in her lonely room,
As the stars peeped out of the haze,
And her voice poured forth in its sweetest gush,
Though none was beside to praise--
Till she saw a form to her window creep
And crouch by its misty pane,--
An old dame wept at the wondrous song
That gave back her youth again!
The singer stirred not, nor made a sign
That she saw where the listener stood,
But once and again she raised her voice
And poured out its golden flood,
And only ceased when the minster bells
Shook out their evening clang--
Then one thanked God for the song she heard,
And one for the song she sang.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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The Voice of Love
After a long solitary confinement
In deep love for someone
I heard a song
A song in the woods
Where I stood
The woods which stood in the solitude
There was nobody
Nobody except me
Nobody heard the song
Which rapped in the woods
Somewhere, but I didn't know where
The song I heard wasn't raspy
Neither soft nor melodious
The song I heard was heart-strucken'd
There was a tone
A tune where you can find
A rapt of love.
The song has given pathogen in me
Who's that guy?
Singing in love
Crying and dying in love?
I listened to the song carefully
Now I found
The lonely woods are in me
And the song I heard
was the voice
The voice of love in me.
poem by D'menz Veen
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Snowflakes
The kiss of the moon
Breathes life into blackest night.
Snowflakes
Lay on frosted field.
Sparkling under astral lamplight.
I stand where we once stood.
Holding my dreams so tight.
Silence winging through the wood.
Angels singing
Burning white.
There flies a symphony in my soul
Floating softly on the breeze.
But she's not there to answer
As I whisper
'Darling please'
To myself,
And lonely midnight fields.
To be so alone
Is to die
By the sword that passion wields.
Slowly, in black and white
Our love runs through the night.
Like a movie
That made us cry.
My elusive butterfly
Ebbs away on a rolling tide.
No, she's not there
But remains inside.
Forever to play the strings
Of my freezing heart.
Yet
After dewdropp clings
Sunlight and snowflakes
Have to part.
poem by Kevin East
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Amaranth
ONCE a poet—long ago—
Wrote a song as void of art
As the songs that children know,
And as pure as a child’s heart.
With a sigh he threw it down,
Saying, “This will never shed
Any glory or renown
On my name when I am dead.
“I will sing a lordly song
Men shall hear, when I am gone,
Through the years sound clear and strong
As a golden clarion.”
So this lordly song he sang
That would gain him deathless fame—
When the death-knell o’er him rang
No man even knew its name.
Ay, and when his way he found
To the place of singing souls,
And beheld their bright heads crowned
With song-woven aureoles,
He stood shame-faced in the throng,
For his brow of wreath was bare,
And, alas! his lordly song
Sere had grown in that sweet air;
Then, all sudden, a divine
Light fell on him from afar,
And he felt the child-song shine
On his forehead like a star.
So for ever. Each and all
Songs of passion or of mirth
That are not heart-pure shall fall
As a sky-lark’s—to the earth;
But the soul’s song has no bounds—
Like the voice of Israfel,
From the heaven of heavens it sounds
To the very hell of hell.
poem by Victor James Daley
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A Happy Song
I need to write
A happy song tonight
To find that tune
And touch the moon
Caressed by the light
It feels so right
Cause not every night
You're holding me tight
I have to write
A happy song tonight
To find that rhythm
Of the heart's hymn
To be one with the beat
Of your laughter so sweet
Cause not every night
I feel so right
And the stars will be dancing
To this happy song I've written
And the clouds will be singing
With thunder's heavy drummin'
Cause not every night
We surrender and not fight
Let's feel the music
Of this happy song, its so sick
Breathe in, give in
I will make you live again
And the stars will be dancing
To this happy song I've written
And the clouds will be singing
With thunder's heavy drummin'
Cause not every night
We surrender and not fight
This happy song I write
For this happy night
This happy song
This happy night.
© All Rights Reserved
poem by Moon Fairy
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The Irish Soldier
The Irish soldier, cast for fight,
Stood to his arms at dead of night,
Watching the east, until its ray
To the battle--field should show his way;--
Soldier, soldier, soldier brave,
You will fight though they call you slave,
And though you but help a bandit hand
Uncheck'd to kill in your native land.
The soldier thought on his chance of doom--
How the trampled sod might be his tomb--
How, in evening's dusk, his sightless stare
To the small pale stars might upward glare;--
Soldier, soldier, soldier brave,
You will fight though you think of the grave--
Though it yawn so near you, black and chill,
Honor and courage man you still.
And o'er his solemn brow he made
The Christian sign, and humbly said--
``Your prayers, good saints, if I should fall;
And for mercy, O Lord, on you I call!''--
Irish soldier, soldier brave,
You will fight, although you crave
The prayers of the saints your own to aid,
And the sign of the cross on your brow have made.
The morning broke--the bugle blew--
The voice of command the soldier knew,
And stern and straight in the van he stood,
And shouting, he rush'd to the work of blood;--
Irish soldier, soldier bold,
Thousands lay round you, crimson'd and cold--
But over their bodies you still fought on,
Till down you sank as the day was won.
And the Irish soldier now hath come,
Worn, and wounded, and crippled, home,
The hated, and slander'd, and scorn'd of those
Who safely slept while he faced their foes;--
Irish soldier, soldier bold,
In your native land you now are told
'Twas traitor--blood on that field you lost,
For you call'd on the saints, and your brow you cross'd!
poem by John Banim
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Battlefield Of Love
I am a soldier
A casualty of love
I've been from heaven
All the way to hell
I've had a journey
Much more than I can tell
I've got stories
Much more than I can sell
All this mass confusion
Causes chaos in my brain
I'm on the battlefield
The battlefield of love
With all of the illusions
I won't ever be the same
I'm on the battlefield
The battlefield of love
I'm a prisoner
A prisoner of love
I have been captured
And kept underground
I have been tortured
But I don't make a sound
'Cause I know one day
One day I will be found
All this mass confusion
Causes chaos in my brain
I'm on the battlefield
The battlefield of love
With all of the illusions
I won't ever be the same
I'm on the battlefield
The battlefield of love
song performed by by Lenny Kravitz from Lenny
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Night Before Christmas
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 sober thought,
Came through 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 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 Canadian soldier.
Was this the hero,
Of whom I’d just read?
Curled up on a poncho,
The floor for a bed?
I realized 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 grownups would celebrate,
A bright Christmas Day.
They all enjoyed freedom,
Each month of the year,
Because 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,
And I heard a rough voice,
“Santa, don’t cry.
This life is my choice.”
“I fight for freedom,
I don’t ask for more,
My life is my God,
My country, my corps.”
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 honor,
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.”
This poem was written by a peace keeping soldier
stationed overseas.
poem by Cassandra Avalos
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Military christmas
'Twas 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 Mantle,
Just Boots Filled With Sand,
On The Wall Hung Pictures
Of Far Distant Lands.
With Medals And Badges,
Awards Of All Kinds,
A Sober Thought
Came Through 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 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 Hero
Of Whom I'd Just Read?
Curled Up On A Poncho,
The Floor For A Bed?
I Realized 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 Grownups Would Celebrate
A Bright Christmas Day.
They All Enjoyed Freedom
Each Month Of The Year,
Because 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
And I Heard A Rough Voice,
'Santa Don't Cry,
This Life Is My Choice;
I Fight For Freedom,
I Don't Ask For More,
My Life Is My God,
My Country, My Corps.'
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 Honor
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.'
poem by Matthew Cole
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Soldier's Christmas
Twas 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 mantle, just boots filled with sand,
and on the wall pictures of far distant land.
With medals and badges, awards of all kinds,
a sobering thought came to my mind.
For this house was different, so dark and so dreary,
the home of a soldier, now 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 hero of whom I'd just read?
Curled up on a poncho, the floor for a bed?
I realized 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 grownups would celebrate a bright Christmas day.
They all enjoyed freedom each month of the year,
because 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 and I heard a rough voice,
'Santa don't cry, this life is my choice;
I fight for freedom, I don't ask for more,
my life is my 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,
and we both shivered from the cold evening's chill.
I didn't want to leave on that cold, dark, night,
this guardian of honor 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.'
poem by Wade Blade
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hes Alive
The gates and doors were barred
And all the windows fastened down
I spent the night in sleeplessness
And rose at every sound
Half in hope of sorrow
And half in fear the day
Would find the soldiers breakin through
To drag us all away
And just before the sunrise
I heard something at the wall
The gate began to rattle
And a voice began to call
I hurried to the window
Looked down into the street
Expecting swords and torches
And the sound of soldiers feet
But there was no one there but mary
So I went down to let her in
John stood there beside me
As she told me where shed been
She said theyve moved him in the night
And none of us know where
The stones been rolled away
And now his body isnt there
We both ran towards the garden
Then john ran on ahead
We found the stone and empty tomb
Just the way that mary said
But the winding sheet they wrapped him in
Was just an empty shell
And how or where theyd taken him
Was more than I could tell
Oh something strange had happened there
Just what I did not know
John believed a miracle
But I just turned to go
Circumstance and speculation
Couldnt lift me very high
cause Id seen them crucify him
Then I saw him die
Back inside the house again
The guilt and anguish came
Everything Id promised him
Just added to my shame
When at last it came to choices
I denied I knew his name
And even if he was alive
It wouldnt be the same
But suddenly the air was filled
With a strange and sweet perfume
Light that came from everywhere
Drove shadows from the room
And jesus stood before me
With his arms held open wide
And I fell down on my knees
And I just clung to him and cried
Then he raised me to my feet
And as I looked into his eyes
The love was shining out from him
Like sunlight from the skies
Guilt in my confusion
Disappeared in sweet release
And every fear I ever had
Just melted into peace
Hes alive yes hes alive
Yes hes alive and Im forgiven
Heavens gates are open wide
Hes alive yes hes alive
Oh hes alive and Im forgiven
Heavens gates are open wide
Hes alive hes alive
Hallelujah hes alive
Hes alive and Im forgiven
Heavens gates are open wide
Hes alive hes alive hes alive
I believe it hes alive
Sweet jesus
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Last Inspection
The Last Inspection
The soldier stood and faced his 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 got just 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 an unmanly tear
I know I don't deserve a place, among the people here.
They never wanted me around, except to calm their fear.
If you've a place for me here, Lord,1t 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 judgment 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 '
Jim 1967
poem by James Casey
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So You Want To Be A Soldier
So you want to be a soldier
And learn those fighting moves;
Be a member of a team
In the soldier's school.
So you want to be a soldier
And go far from your home,
And learn there how to be a man
As you fight and roam.
So you want to be a soldier
And hold your buddy's hand,
As they breathe their final,
There on some mortal sand.
So you want to be a soldier
And call the road your bed,
And never know just when or how
You'll lay down your tired head.
So you want to be a soldier
Be buried in some plot-
Maybe far from your hometown,
After you have fought.
So you want to be a soldier-
Well there's no finer choice,
Than giving so unselfishly
To freedoms song, your voice.
You want to be a soldier;
And you could do much worse;
And choose the cowards way to go
And walk, behind the hearse.
But your name they'll remember,
As they speak of you with awe;
And wonder at your bravery,
And wonder what you saw.
Many men will shake your hand
And thank you for their freedom,
They'll say it is a gift from god
That you are still breathing.
You'll live more than other men-
And suffer much more too,
But in the end, you'll count it as
The best thing you could do.
And the biggest thank you,
That you will ever receive,
Is in the eyes of loved ones-
When you're back home again.
So if you know an older soldier,
Please shake his hand today
And tell him that you're grateful
He chose the soldier's way.
poem by Patti Masterman
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Tai Shan
Words by neil peart, music by geddy lee and alex lifeson
High on the sacred mountain
Up the seven thousand stairs
In the golden light of autumn
There was magic in the air
Clouds surrounded the summit
The wind blew strong and cold
Among the silent temples
And the writing carved in gold
Somewhere in my instincts
The primitive took hold...
I stood at the top of the mountain
And china sang to me
In the peaceful haze of harvest time
A song of eternity --
If you raise your hands to heaven
You will live a hundred years
I stood there like a mystic
Lost in the atmosphere
The clouds were suddenly parted
For a moment I could see
The patterns of the landscape
Reaching to the eastern sea
I looked upon a presence
Spanning forty centuries...
I thought of time and distance
The hardships of history
I heard the hope and the hunger
When china sang to me...
song performed by by Rush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hell Or Heaven
Mama used to say to me
You can make your destiny
Keep your feet planted on the ground
You can always get it back
Make a castle from a one room shack
It's what you make of what you've found
Son you're gonna find out when you're older
There's always been the hand of God
Resting right there on your shoulder
Will it be hell or heaven on Earth
The choice is up to you
Look to the sky, the answer is clear
Are you gonna live life for all it's worth
Choose hell or heaven on Earth
If you live it right
There's nothing to fear
'Cause you'll find heaven right here
Saw a man the other day
Had it made in every way
Till his greed brought him down
He was blinded by the city lights
Now he shivers in the cold at night
Who will save the lifeguard
When he's about to drown
Will it be hell or heaven on Earth
The choice is up to you
Look to the sky, the answer is clear
Are you gonna live life for all it's worth
Choose hell or heaven on Earth
If you live it right
There's nothing to fear
'Cause you'll find heaven right here
You know you're gonna walk on through the fire
You know you're gonna feel the pain
You know you're gonna lose if you wanna win the game
And every time your heart is breakin'
And every time your faith is shaken
Just remember what mama said
Oh yeah
Hope when my time has come
I'm left enough to build upon
Ain't no one gonna say I didn't try
And here's why
Hell or heaven on Earth
The choice is up to you
Look to the sky, the answer is clear
Are you gonna live life for all it's worth
Choose hell or heaven on Earth
If you live it right
There's nothing to fear
'Cause you'll find heaven right here
You'll find heaven right here (x3)
song performed by by Lynyrd Skynyrd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silent Night
(arranged by reba mcentire)
(whats written in sentences and not verse at the beginning is what
Reba
Explains at the beginning, the rest is the song)
On christmas eve in 1818
A blizzard stranded the tiny village of ogledorf
Nestled in the austrian mountains
That same day the people of st. nicholas church found their organ
Broken
So the priest and organist began composing a song that could be sung
Without
An organ yet beautiful enough to express their christmas joy
All day and all night long they worked
And at midnight the gentle carol silent night was born
The pure clear tones echoed through the hills
And the world has been captured by the beauty of that simple song ever
Since.
Silent night
Holy night
All is calm
All is bright
Round yon virgin
Mother and child
Holy infant so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace
Silent night
Holy night
Shepeards pray at the sight
Glory streams from heaven afar
Heavenly ? sing hallelujah
Christ the savior is born
Christ the savior is born
Silent night
Holy night
All is calm
And all is bright
Round yon virgin
Mother and child
Holy infant so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace
Silent night
Holy night
Sleep in heavenly peace
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Marine's poem
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 MANTLE,
JUST BOOTS FILLED WITH SAND,
ON THE WALL HUNG PICTURES
OF FAR DISTANT LANDS.
WITH MEDALS AND BADGES,
AWARDS OF ALL KINDS,
A SOBER THOUGHT
CAME THROUGH 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 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 HERO OF WHOM I'D JUST READ?
CURLED UP ON A PONCHO, THE FLOOR FOR A BED?
I REALIZED 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 GROWNUPS WOULD CELEBRATE
A BRIGHT CHRISTMAS DAY.
THEY ALL ENJOYED FREEDOM
EACH MONTH OF THE YEAR,
BECAUSE 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
AND I HEARD A ROUGH VOICE,
'SANTA DON'T CRY,
THIS LIFE IS MY CHOICE;
I FIGHT FOR FREEDOM,
I DON'T ASK FOR MORE,
MY LIFE IS MY 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
AND WE BOTH SHIVERED
FROM THE COLD NIGHT'S CHILL.
I DIDN'T WANT TO LEAVE
ON THAT COLD, DARK, NIGHT,
THIS GUARDIAN OF HONOR
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.'
poem by Raine Gillespie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Deaf Gunpowder
Come on soldier.
Soldier?
Get off of your battlefield
Let me take you to a place
Where your weapons are sealed.
Come on soldier.
Soldier?
Look me in the eye
Your heart hasn’t chosen to be here
Then why are you here?
Ask yourself why.
Come on soldier.
Soldier?
It’s time to breathe
It’s time to stop fighting for your life,
For something you don’t believe.
Hey soldier?
Soldier?
I do understand
It wasn’t your choice to be here
But you chose not to fight for that;
You chose to fight for someone else.
That is why in life you were not alive
But when you died,
That was when you started to breathe.
Hey soldier?
Soldier?
I know you cannot hear
Because you strived
You are alive
To you death will never come near.
poem by Mehreen Mujeeb
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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