No Christmas In My Stocking

The following is the second of two Christmas poems I wrote when in the Navy. See here for the first. 

No Christmas In My Stocking

As I look out

and see the blue sky,

with its hot desert sun,

the thought of Christmas

is difficult to envision.

Outside the world

is water and sand.

For the water is the sea

and the sand is the far lands

that exist beyond the horizon.

Snow drifts are memories only.

Scenes of childhood

to reminisce the time away.

Snowball fights and ice skates,

homemade igloos and sleds,

and hot cocoa to warm

when the evening sets too soon.

As Christmas day approaches,

and even as it pass,

my prayers, dreams, and memories,

send my love homeward.

Though may gift not I unwrap,

nor holiday meal I share,

I give to you that love,

in the hopes that when home I do come,

it too will be Christmas day.

J.P. Wiegand

©Emittravel 1987



©Emittravel 2011