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,
ON CE 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.'

'Twas the night before Christmas, and up at the Pole,
The reindeer ran wild and out of control,
The elves all atwitter in overdue haste,
And Santa, aghast at the mayhem he faced.

He'd already lost weight since the season began,
Through the trials and troubles he'd stuck to his plan,
There would be a Christmas, like every year,
The children'd sleep soundly, not one'd shed a tear.

But he didn't look like Saint Nicholas at all -
In climbing up chimneys he'd certainly fall,
His eyes were all squinty from missing such sleep,
His chortling like choking, his ho-ho-ho weak.

Poor Dasher and Dancer were utterly smashed,
And Prancer and Vixen had stumbled in trashed,
Both Comet and Cupid were high as a kite
And Rudolph (ironic!) was out like a light.

For Donner and Blitzen, need I carry on?
And so Santa found them, all sprawled 'cross the lawn,
Just what were the chances they'd wake up by night
To see to their duty, the children's delight?

The elves had been naughty, they'd slacked off all year,
Imagine their horror when Santa appeared!
They'd fashioned no toys, to Kriss Kringle's dismay,
And Christmas was coming in only a day!

But still Father Christmas pressed on without fear,
He'd worked off his ass; this was his whole career,
To make children happy, and damned if he'd fail,
He'd nitpicked the system, worked every detail.

And so night arrived, and they finally were done!
But then again, maybe the work just begun.
Ascending the skies with mercurial steeds,
Saint Nicholas just prayed as they hastened the speed.

By dawn, all exhausted, they headed back north,
And Santa called out as the sleigh started forth,
"Be grateful you brats, you won't always have this,
For soon you'll grow up and you'll buy your own gifts!"

by lunay