Christian Christmas Poems
Memories of Christmas
Our Holy Season
A Christmas Prayer
Christmas For Two
Christmas Bells 1864
Christmas Wish for You
Timeless Christmas Message
The Magic of Christmas
Jesus is Better Than Santa
The Gift Of Christmas
A Star Shown Above
Advent Epidemic Poems
The Village Poem
Sweet Babe Jesus Poem
The Christmas Gift Poem
Jesus' Birthday Poem
Christmas Cake Poem
Week Before Christmas
Our Jesus From Galilee
His Humble Birth Poem
When I Dream of Christmas
Missing You At Christmas
The First Christmas Lights
My Christmas Prayer
Fun Christmas Poems
Puppy's 12 Days of Christmas
Rudolph's Awesome Yule Rule
The Boy Who Laughed at Santa Claus
The Last Christmas Tree
Month Before Christmas
Hanging Baby's Stocking
Hanging round the Mistletoe
Gingerbread Man in a Pan
Snowball Fight Poem
Reindeer Rule Poem
It's A Computer Christmas
Holiday Diet Poem
Peace on Earth Poem
Country Christmas Poems
Christmas in our Town
Quest for the Festive Bough
A Country Christmas
A Cowboy Christmas Poem
Cowboy's Christmas Prayer
for our Military
On Watch Tonight Poem
A Soldiers Christmas Poem
Merry Christmas My Friend
A Soldier's Christmas Wish
Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone,
In a one bedroom house made of plaster & stone.
I had come down the chimney, with presents to give
and to see just who in this home did live
As I looked all about, a strange sight I did see,
no tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
No stocking by the fire, just boots filled with sand.
On the wall hung pictures of a far distant land.
With medals and badges, awards of all kind,
a sobering thought soon came to my mind.
For this house was different, unlike any I'd seen.
This was the home of a U.S. Marine.
I'd heard stories about them, I had to see more,
so I walked down the hall and pushed open the door.
And there he lay sleeping, silent, alone,
Curled up on the floor in his one-bedroom home.
He seemed so gentle, his face so serene,
Not how I pictured a U.S. Marine.
Was this the hero, of whom I’d just read?
Curled up in his poncho, a floor for his bed?
His head was clean-shaven, his weathered face tan.
I soon understood, this was more than a man.
For I realized the families that I saw that night,
owed their lives to these men, who were willing to fight.
Soon around the Nation, the children would play,
And grown-ups would celebrate on a bright Christmas day.
They all enjoyed freedom, each month and all year,
because of Marines like this one lying here.
I couldn’t help wonder how many lay alone,
on a cold Christmas Eve, in a land far from home.
Just the very thought brought a tear to my eye.
I dropped to my knees and I started to cry.
He must have awoken, for 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."
With that he rolled over, drifted off into sleep,
I couldn't control it, I continued to weep.
I watched him for hours, so silent and still.
I noticed he shivered from the cold night's chill.
So I took off my jacket, the one made of red,
and covered this Marine from his toes to his head.
Then I put on his T-shirt of scarlet and gold,
with an eagle, globe and anchor emblazoned so bold.
And although it barely fit me, I began to swell with pride,
and for one shining moment, I was Marine Corps deep inside.
I didn't want to leave him so quiet in the night,
this guardian of honor so willing to fight.
But half asleep he rolled over, and in a voice clean and pure,
said "Carry on, Santa, it's Christmas Day, all secure."
One look at my watch and I knew he was right,
Merry Christmas my friend, Semper Fi and goodnight.
"Merry Christmas, My Friend," has been a holiday favorite among 'leatherneckphiles' for nearly the time it takes to complete a Marine Corps career. Few, however, know who wrote it and when. Former Corporal James M. Schmidt, stationed at Marine Barracks, Washington, D.C., pounded it out over 17 years ago on a typewriter while awaiting the commanding officer's Christmas holiday decorations inspection... while other leathernecks strung lights for the Barracks' annual Christmas decoration contest, Schmidt contributed his poem to his section."
Over the years the text of "Merry Christmas, My Friend," has been altered to change Marine-specific wording into Army references (including the title: U.S. Marines do not refer to themselves as "soldiers") and to incorporate line-ending rhyme changes necessitated by those alterations.