Twas the Night Before...(a tribute)

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 Lands.

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 Marine,
Now I Could See Clearly.

The Marine Lay Sleeping,
Silent, Alone,
Curled Up On The Floor
In This One Bedroom Home.

The Room In Disorder
The Face So Serene,
Not How I Pictured
A United States Marine.

Was This The Hero
Of Whom I'd Just Read?
Curled Up On A Poncho,
The Floor For A Bed?

I Realized The Families
Hat I Saw This Night,
Owed Their Lives To These Marines
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 Marines,
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 Marine 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 Marine 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 Marine 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."