December 2005 Newsletter | |
THE SANDS OF CHRISTMAS
by Michael Marks December 8, 2005
I had no Christmas spirit when I breathed a weary sigh,
The laundry wasn't finished and the car I had to fix,
And so with only minutes till my son got home from school
The burdens that I carried were about all I could take,
I came upon a desert scene in shades of tan and rust,
And where the reindeer should have stood before a laden sleigh,
A group of boys walked past the tank, not one was past his teens
They walked the street in armor with their rifles shouldered tight,
Other soldiers gathered, hunkered down against the wind,
There wasn't much at all to put their lonely hearts at ease,
They didn't have a garland or a stocking I could see,
They didn't have a present even though it was tradition,
I felt a little tug and found my son now by my side,
I swept him up into my arms and held him oh so near
"There's nothing wrong, my little son, for safe we sleep tonight
To worry on the things in life that mean nothing at all,
He looked at me as children do and said, "it's always right,
And so we pushed aside the bills and sat to draft a note,
"God bless you all and keep you safe, and speed your way back home.
The gift you give you share with all, a present every day,
"I freely submit this poem for reprint without reservation--this is an open and grateful tribute to the men and women who serve every day to keep our nation safe."
~ Michael Marks | |
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