This has nothing to do with planeshift. This poem was made for the Australian troops who were killed, wounded or still fighting in the Iraq war. let us hope they will be home for christmas. read this I found it sad because I am Australian and I honor our troops who fight for our freedom in all wars.
T\'was the night before christmas,
He lived all alone,
In a one bedroom house, made out of plaster and stone.
I had come down the chimney, with presents to give, And to see just who, in the home, did live.
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 differant, it was dark and dreary,
I found the home of a soldier, once I could see cleary.
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, an Australian 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 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,
And 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 you all a good night.\"
and to honor these soldiers I am going to join the Australian army when I am 18 so I can keep the peace in Australia and through out the world.
Can you please reply to say what you think about this poem. I would greatly appreciate it, Thanks.
