> I liked this...
>
> THE SANDS OF CHRISTMAS
>
> by Michael Marks
>
> I had no Christmas spirit when I breathed a weary sigh,
> And looked across the table where the bills were piled too high.
>
> The laundry wasn't finished and the car I had to fix,
> My stocks were down another point, the Chargers lost by six.
>
> And so with only minutes till my son got home from school
> I gave up on the drudgery and grabbed a wooden stool.
>
> The burdens that I carried were about all I could take,
> And so I flipped the TV on to catch a little break.
>
> I came upon a desert scene in shades of tan and rust,
> No snowflakes hung upon the wind, just clouds of swirling dust.
>
> And where the reindeer should have stood before a laden sleigh,
> EightHumvees ran a column right behind an M1A.
>
> A group of boys walked past the tank, not one was past his teens
> Their eyes were hard as polished flint, their faces drawn and lean.
>
> They walked the street in armor with their rifles shouldered tight,
> Their dearest wish for Christmas, just to have a silent night.
>
> Other soldiers gathered, hunkered down against the wind,
> To share a scrap of mail and dreams of going home again
>
> There wasn't much at all to put their lonely hearts at ease,
> They had no Christmas turkey, just a pack of MREs.
>
> They didn't have a garland or a stocking I could see,
> They didn't need an ornament--they lacked a Christmas tree.
>
> They didn't have a present even though it was tradition,
> The only boxes I could see were labeled "ammunition."
>
> I felt a little tug and found my son now by my side,
> He asked me what it was I feared, and why it was I cried.
>
> I swept him up into my arms and held him oh so near
> And kissed him on the forehead as I whispered in his ear.
>
> "There's nothing wrong, my little son, for safe we sleep tonight.
> Our heroes stand on foreign land to give us all the right,
>
> To worry on the things in life that mean nothing at all, Instead of
> wondering if we will be the next to fall."
>
> He looked at me as children do and said, "It's always right,
> To thank the ones who help us and perhaps that we should write."
>
> And so we pushed aside the bills and sat to draft a note,
> To thank the many far from home and this is what we wrote:
>
> "God bless you all and keep you safe and speed your way back home.
> Remember that we love you so, and that you're not alone.
>
> The gift you give you share with all, a present every day,
> You give the gift of liberty and that we can't repay."
>
> Michael Marks: "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.
>
"