It would not be surprising
if Santa Claus were real,
That he’d stop inside a soldier’s house,
And be emotionally struck I feel.

For what’s important to a soldier,
Is not worthy to be compared,
To whatever anyone else wants,
For his thinking will lay elsewhere!

While the world sees pretty packages,
All wrapped tightly with ribbons and bows,
The soldier only sees the bandages
On the injured both friends and foes.

If a soldier ever gets to sleep
It’s in a hole he dug himself,
Using entrenching tools he carries
On his green ammunition belt!

So Santa please just let him rest,
No milk and cookies you will find.
His mind dreams of vivid battles,
And how to avoid a claymore mine!

Santa, when he was just a lad
He thought not of what would be today.
And he never gave a second thought
Those guns would be real someday!

Inside the heart of every boy
Is a soldier to be loosed in war.
And he dreams of becoming a hero,
As he is today and so much more!

So Santa all those toys you brought
That put the pacifists in wild uproars,
But they shaped our American Soldiers,
And prepared their hearts for war!

Perhaps that soldier is dreaming
He’s standing under the mistletoe,
And kissing the girl he was courting,
Before his unit was shipped out to go!

Please Santa let that soldier sleep,
In the corner down on the floor,
You leave “HIM” milk and cookies,
And salute as you leave his door!


Robert Burns

New Port Richey, United States

  • Artist
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