Little Soldiers
The tree stood tall and proud in a corner of the hall
lights brightly shone throwing patterns on the wall
Holly boughs and berries strewn around the room
candles flickered on the hearth, warming winters gloom
Family all gathered, one last Christmas chore
decorations in the box, waiting by the door
This year would be different, Grandma came to stay
sitting by the fireside, while children round her play
Baubles, bells and tinsel, a fairy for the top
candy canes and Santas, now it’s time to stop
Children sent to bed for the hour was getting late
one small box was left in the bottom of the crate
Grandma sat and stroked the box, tears in her eyes
she had no need to wonder, for she knew the surprise
Little wooden soldiers with chipped and tarnished paint
not brash and bright and shiny, to some a little quaint
Each one with love was crafted by her husband’s caring hand
she kissed their tiny faces to her they looked so grand
She hung them on the tree as a tear hit the floor
her mind transported back to so many years before
If only he could see them now up there in pride of place
before her eyes an image of her Harry’s handsome face
This would be a Christmas that she’d feel his presence near
surrounded by the family in the comfort felt right here
Christmas morning bright and early children from their beds
rushing round the house, thoughts of presents filled their heads
Grandma sat contented as she watched their happy faces
toys, games and wrapping paper filling up the spaces
After lunch a quieter time children gather round
Grandma tells of Grandpa and the soldiers they have found
She stands them on the table in regimented rows
she smiles as each one’s placed, the pride within her grows
He made a soldier every year to put upon the tree
the first, the day their son was born ‘til he was twenty three
Over years his skill increased they soon became his art
the day their son was killed, was the day he lost his heart
Far away from home he was fighting foreign wars
he lay down his precious life fighting for a cause
Grandma’s getting tired now and needs a little rest
she settles by the fire clutching soldiers to her breast
Her eyes grow dim and heavy as she dreams of days gone by
her Harry standing by her side;
she smiles;
Her last goodbye.














Anna.






touching.




123 old applause
