Tuesday, December 20, 2011

A Christmas Tribute to Our Troops

Christmas Tree Boots

© 2011 Linda McKinney All Rights Reserved

Filled with dirt,
Frozen through,
It started there,
In WW two.
Tradition: it starts somewhere.

A friend had died,
Though not alone,
And given up
His boots to Jones.
Christmas: it started there.

Rhoades took the boots
And dug the dirt,
And carried it
Wrapped in his shirt.
Stacking: starting with Jones’.

And from there
It all began,
Tradition passed
From Man to Man.
Trees: from shoes one owns.

In the circle,
Toes pointing out,
Recall the names
That it’s about.
Filling: support to give.

Ten to eight,
Eight to six,
Six to four,
Soon it’s fixed.
Single: from one who lives.

A soldier’s boot
Now stands tall
For Christmas-time
Has come to all.
Tree: dirt-filled soldiers’ boots.

In frozen snow,
Or sandy desert,
It helps to ease
A soldier’s hurt
Normalcy: our own roots.

When next you see
A soldier brave
Remember thank them,
Salute their grave.
Freedom: won day by day.

Even on Christmas
They gave their all,
Served our country,
Answered the call.
Sacrifice: the price they pay.

Imagine now
The soldiers’ boots,
Stacked up tall,
First owners mute.
Blood: red and green contrast.

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