POEMS

This poem was sent to BAR to share from one of own volunteers who is a veteran.  We want to thank James Tipping and all the other soldiers who have given so unselfishly of themselves so that we can all live in FREEDOM.

This poem was written by a Marine stationed in Okinawa Japan. The following is his request. I think it is reasonable.....

PLEASE. Would you do me the kind favor of sending this to as many people as you can? Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due to our U.S. service men and women for our being able to celebrate these festivities.  Let's try in this small way to pay a tiny bit of what we owe.  Make people stop and think of our heroes, living and dead, who sacrificed themselves for us.

'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."

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This is a special Poem (copyrighted) by Therese B. Matthies, mother of BAR Volunteer Tamara Nunley,
who thought that in light of Hope's situation, this would be the perfect time to publish it.

My name is __Hope__ and I'm a member of the BAR.
That's Boxer Angels Rescue - another chance is what they are,
For those like me, who've come to see that lonely is our lot,
While day to day we wander through that place that love forgot.
Now someone loves me.  Life has changed.  My world is all brand new.
Still, there's so many where I used to be -  they need a someone, too.
Someone who will rescue them from the land of broken hearts.
I lived there once, and so I know, exactly how it starts.
I still remember those, who, in the past, called me their own.
A darling pup, then I grew up.......to hours of all alone.
There's sadness in the knowledge that you're more or less "just there".
Some "thing" to keep that cold hall floor from looking quite so bare.
So many times I'd lay there waiting to be recognized,
And hope, that when they'd turn, I'd see a softness in their eyes.
The one thing that was constant was the emptiness endured,
Empty food and water dishes, empty looks, and empty words.
Then the day you knew would come - that shelter door slams loud.
They walk away and you've become one of the "cast-off" crowd.
But it doesn't have to end there, in a cell where hopes depart,
Because an Angel came one day and offered hand and heart.
She slipped her halo 'round my neck just so I wouldn't roam,
And wrapped me safe within her wings, together we went home.
Yet so many more need saving.  It's a lot to ask, I know.
But come to the BAR and share your love - your wings will start to grow.
                                                 Therese B. Matthies  2002


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A tribute to the volunteers of Boxer Angels Rescue, and to all animal rescues, and in memory of Daisy and Emmy.

I am the rescue dog, past lives in my eyes,
calloused pads of my feet, crate-sores on my thighs
and worn teeth, misshapen nipples dangling beneath
mangy fur, matted dirt, but mostly in my eyes,
    watching you watching me.

I am the rescue dog, imprisoned by fence
where fighting dogs train in attack and defense,
my teeth have been filed so I won't be a threat
when they teach them to kill, amid cheers and bets
     to fight to the death.

I am the rescue dog, crouch low when you reach,
around my neck rusted chain keeps me angry or meek,
broken leg never set from my days on the run,
left behind, young or old, left to die or to roam
     hungry and alone.

I am the rescue dog, kept tied to a tree
without drink, without hope, I tremble and bleed
and the scars on my back and my legs and my face
and my ears torn to shreds, but
     I lived by God's grace.

I am the rescue dog, I want to survive,
I sense your kind soul through infected eye,
through infested ear, straining to hear
gentle in your voice, kindness in you,
     not trusting when I do.

I am the rescue dog, carried into your home
trembling, yet hungry for someone to hold
me close and whisper, "you're such a good dog"
I long for all this, for a pat on my head,
     a clean, warm bed.

I am the rescue dog, weeks have passed by,
I’ve found you won’t hurt me when I bark or I cry,
when we walk, I’ve begun to hold myself proud,
when you’re gone, I know you won’t leave me long
     and you will come home.

I am the rescue dog, years from now I will stand
still for a moment at the sight of your hand
reaching for me . . . then I remember to believe
the trust that I need to fall into your arms,
     the love in your heart.

I am the rescued dog.
     Thank you, from me.

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