Christmas Poem...Island Style.

I first posted this in Y360 and a couple of years ago here on my multiply site.  I like this parody of, Twas The Night Before Christmas.  Merry Christmas, from my family to yours.  ==Enzo.

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all over the isle,

The stores were jampacked, lines as long as a mile.

Midnight Masses were done, some as early as 10,

Then it was back to the house, to make kelaguen.

The kids were watching wrestling, should have been in their beds,

While visions of boñelos dagu cha-cha-cha'd through their heads.

My five dogs were all barking, as the midnight hour came near,

And Santa came calling, but with carabao, not reindeer.

He landed on the roof with such a bump and a shake

That I jumped up and ran, thinking, "Laña! Earthquake!"

To the window I flew, then I cursed and I muttered,

Because it, like the rest, was still typhoon-shuttered.

So I ran out of the house to our kitchen outdoors,

As the coconut trees swayed along white sandy shores,

When what before my wondering eyes did appear now,

But a miniature bullcart and eight miniature carabao,

With a little manamko' driver, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment that it had to be Tun Nick.

With a clatter of big hooves, his carabao they came,

He said "sst, hoy!" and then called them by name;

Now Junior! Now Nene! Now Tita and Ding!

Hafa Ko! Hafa Doll! Hafa 'Sus and Ping!

To the top of the pickup! to the top of the tin!

Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away again!

Tun Nick landed his own sled, right there on our roof,

So I looked for a Polaroid, so I would have proof.

He was dressed all in red, from his foot to his head,

He didn't wear boots, but jingle-belled yore' instead.

His eyes, how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry!

And his nose was red as the signs that spelled "Geri."

He came down the roof, wondering where he should go to,

And his big bushy beard was as white as some potu.

He had a broad face and a little round tummy,

Which he rubbed happily as he ate guyuria so yummy.

He spoke not a word as he put presents under the tree,

A seven-day bracelet for the wife, a new machete for me.

The kids all got scooters, betel nut cutters for Tun Ben,

Then he turned to go and almost knocked over the belen.

Ai adai, it was plenty hot, so he loosened his collar,

Then sprang to the roof and to his team gave a holler.

The carabao flew off, carrying Santa over the sea,

And he yelled out: "Felis Pasgua! And to all, esta ki!"

This poem was first published on Dec. 24, 2000, in the Pacific Daily News.

Twas The Night Before Christmas -- Guam Version.

MERRY CHRISTMAS FROM GUAM

Tis the night before Christmas
and Santa's relaxed.
Guam's surf is up--
Santa's surf board is waxed.

The Zories are hung
by the Aircon with care,
And the Kiddies all know
Santa soon will be there.

Once the tide goes out,
and he's through "hangin' ten"
He'll stop to see Barbara,
and Charlie, and Ben.

A snack's been prepared
by Becky and Sam.
It's that old island favorite:
Tortillas and Spam.

After giving out presents,
for his surfboard he'll reach.
Santa's parting remark will be
"Back to the Beach!"

He'll join all those tourists
who visit for fun.
When it comes to vacations,
he says, "Guam's number one!"

And you'll hear him exclaim
'ere he boogies away:
Merry Christmas to all,
And to all, "Hafa Adai!"

Military Christmas Poem

'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,
Once 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."

Written by Lance Corporal James M. Schmidt in 1986. Printed in Leatherneck (The Magazines for the Marines) in December 1991.

A Different Christmas Poem

 The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
 I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight. 
 My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
 My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
 Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
 Transforming the yard to a winter delight.

 The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
 Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve. 
 My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
 Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
 In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
 So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.

 The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
 But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.. 
 Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know,

Then the sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
 My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
 And I crept to the door just to see who was near.

 Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
 A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight. 
 A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
 Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
 Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
 Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.

 "What are you doing?" I asked without fear,
 "Come in this moment, it's freezing out here! 
 Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
 You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!"
 For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
 Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts..

 To the window that danced with a warm fire's light
 Then he sighed and he said "Its really all right, 
 I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night."
 "It's my duty to stand at the front of the line,
 That separates you from the darkest of times.

 No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
 I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me. 
 My Gramps died at 'Pearl on a day in December,"
 Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas 'Gram always remembers."
 My dad stood his watch in the jungles of 'Nam',
 And now it is my turn and so, here I am.

 I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
 But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile. 
 Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
 The red, white, and blue... an American flag.
 I can live through the cold and the being alone,
 Away from my family, my house and my home.

 I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
 I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat. 
 I can carry the weight of killing another,
 Or lay down my life with my sister and brother..
 Who stand at the front against any and all,
 To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall.."

 "  So go back inside," he said, "harbor no fright,
 Your family is waiting and I'll be all right."
 "But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
 "Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast?
 It seems all too little for all that you've done, 
 For being away from your wife and your son."

 Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
 "Just tell us you love us, and never forget. 
 To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone,
 To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
 For when we come home, either standing or dead,
 To know you remember we fought and we bled.
 Is payment enough, and with that we will trust, 
 That we mattered to you as you mattered to us."

From Goat Meat Production Group. 
Posted by: John-Derek Gray
http://www.grayrobinranch.com
Serving N.W. Arkansas and N.E. Oklahoma

The Realization Hit Me.

Although, Rhoda and I talked about it.  And, we agreed it was okay to miss the Christmas Holidays without each other this season.  We accepted the sacrifices so she can finish her last semester of Nursing School which ends this coming March. 

I thought I was going to be okay about it.  During the praise and worship of our Christmas Service this evening, that realization hit me pretty hard.  I don't think I'll be in the mood to celebrate Christmas or New Year's Eve, this year, not without my family. 

This time last year, I was with Rhoda and Larraine in Butuan City having fun, celebrating with her family.  Larraine was leading her cousins around the Purok singing Christmas Carols.  She was only 6 years old at the time. 

I going to work it like any other day.  I'll just continue on my ranch projects here or at the Guae Ranch.  I have not been to the Bottom Lands for awhile now.  I'm pretty sure the boyz will be down there. 

I know this for certain.  This will be the last Christmas and New Year's Eve without my wife and daughter.  I will be there for the Holidays next year, if they are not here on island already.

My next trip to the Philippines will be real long. 

Pelosi lost a Blue Dog to the Republicans. Trendsetting? Hmmm...

Ranch Log: Update on Downed Intruder And Today's Activities

It was busy day for me today.  My day started around 2:30 AM.  I woke up to the dogs barking at the ranch.  I could tell it was Goldie barking.  I listened for awhile thinking it was just the drove of wild pigs making their way into the ranch.  But her barking changed to a slightly deep snarling growl.  The pups were backing her up doing the same thing.  I had gotten out of bed this time and moved to the window.  I saw Duchess running along the trail leading to the ranch.  Soon I heard her doing the same snarling growling bark.  Ever see a dog attack another dog?  Yep, that's the bark I'm talking about.  At this time all the dogs on the ranch, compound, across the street were all barking. 

I opened up my window screen and leaned outside.  I could see the small yellow lights on the ranch shack.  I could tell that Duchess was running back and forth on something.  My whole thought process was that she had cornered a wild pig.  I had my rifle at my side and was trying to attach my red dot scope.  At that time, I heard a voice yelling, not in English or Chamorro.  It definitely was in Chuukese.  Then I heard the cry of pain.  I knew one of my dogs got whoever it was.  I was laughing...I know...I shouldn't have...But it was funny! 

From the sounds, I could tell this guy was running on the glass area, crashing through the trees, trying to get away from my dogs.  Serves him right.  He deserved all he got last night.  I went back to sleep. 

This morning, I got up to see the damage that was done.  I saw Duchess just below the steps of the back porch waiting for me, wagging her tail.  We got the herd out and pastured them, fed the rabbits, and moved the rooster pens to new grass.  I walked over to the glass area.  Okay, let me set the scene.  The glass area is a part of the ranch on the south side that has piles of glass from World War II.  That was left there by the G.I's. who camped in this area after the war.  So I have bottles of coke and beer in one huge pile that covers maybe 400 sq. ft. 

Anyway, I was looking around the glass area.  I noticed bottles broken that were not broken before, broken branches, and the place where the intruder was brought down by Duchess.  She must have did a number on him because there was no moss or leaves covering the ground, just disturbed red dirt.  I wonder where he was bitten, legs, arms, or both.  If he got stitches, how many?  I praised Duchess who was next to me...hugging her, scratching her behind the ears. 

So this morning, I was trying to peek across the street from my ranch into the neighbors yard at the duplex house to see who there was injured.  I didn't see any injured adult, just the children playing in the yard.  That was enough excitement for the day.


My mom decided that she would clean the goat kid's nursery pen this morning.  I helped her taking the branches out.  She raked up the leaves and manure into a nice pile for me to pick up and move to my sweet potato tire towers.  The sweet potatoes/kamute (ka-mu-te) are doing really good.  One tire tower is on it's third tire.  Since the other two tires were not ready to receive compost.  They still have sprouts.  I placed the compost on the 3 trash can towers to get them ready for planting.  I should have some really nice size kamute in March from the tire towers. 

I have to make arrangements to get more tires from my friend Krystal's house.  I am hoping to get them this Saturday morning.  I'll have to ask one of the guys to help me retrieve them before I mark it down as a planned commitment on my projects calendar.  The sooner I get those tires.  The quicker I'll be able to plant more kamute, dagu (Chamorro yam), and U.S. yam. 

This afternoon, I separated the two Guinea hens from the scratch pens.  I had to secure the breeding pen before I placed one of the Guinea hens in it.  My plan is to catch the Guinea roosters for each hen this week.  So I can start them on breeding and getting eggs to repopulate my flock.  That reminds me, I have to get my incubators cleaned and ready. 

I'm doing the same thing for my grass pastured Bulik and white roosters.  Trying to catch the hens for them to breed and grow back the flock.  That includes, acquiring a Muscovy drake from another rancher soon.  Have to get a companion for my last white Muscovy duck. 

I placed a trap with some hen scratch feed in it, on the North side to catch the feral chickens there.  I'll raise them up to fatten them, and then I'll feed them to my dogs as part of my raw meat program.

I'll be planting my cherry tomatoes, regular tomatoes, cucumbers, cantaloupes, sweet onions, red onions, eggplant, green beans, melons, and hot chili peppers in a couple of days.  I'm already looking forward to the harvest. 

Work is never done on a Ranch.

Keep Smiling