A Christmas Poem

Thanks to Darrel McEwen latest 7 Star newsletter for this little ditty:

A Seven Stars Christmas Poem
‘Twas the night before Christmas and all
throughout Caesars
Not a gambler was gambling, not even the
geezers.
The dealers all stood by their tables with care
Knowing Seven Stars players soon would be
there.
The bean counters were nestled all snug in their
cubicles
With visions of profits that seemed quite
delusional.
Cash counters were oiled and cages were ready
The money would soon be flowing in steady.
When out in the garage there arose such a clatter
They looked out their window to see what was the
matter.
The Seven Stars lot was filling with cars
But the players weren’t headed to Caesars slots
and bars.
They walked past the lobby and through the
casino
Without playing blackjack or poker or keno.
They all kept on walking, these Seven Stars
masses
Shouting “we’re voting with our wallets, our feet
and our asses”.
To the Boardwalk they headed for a whiff of salt
air
And to find a casino that might actually care.
A casino where loyalty actually matters
Where the paint isn’t peeling and the carpet’s in
tatters.
On Resorts, Tropicana – hell, even Trump,
It was time to move on from this faux Roman
dump.
“We’re going to find,” the angry crowd chanted,
“A place where our play isn’t taken for granted.”

This rings of truth.....These days I am staying downtown when I go to Vegas, specifically to avoid Harrah's properties. You can't beat the value of downtown and the El Cortez!

Great poem.Thanks for sharing Jon.Happy Holidays Jon.

That little"DITTY" will be included in the book that you will write,soon?
We all miss you,Jon.
Happy Holidays.

PS: Ceasars Palace we like to call: SQWEEZERS! There are nick names for other casino properties. You
know 'em. Impotent Palace is gone. The Fleamont is still there.

Love it! We don't get much love anymore and have moved on from mom and harrahs to stations and Boyd's and now trying the golden nugget.

T'WAS 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 DISORDER,
NOT HOW I PICTURED,
A TRUE AMERICAN 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 DID NOT 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."



This poem was written by a Peacekeeping soldier stationed overseas. The

following is his request. I think it is reasonable.

PLEASE. Would you do me the kind favour of sending this to as many people as
you can? Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due to all of the
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.
Please, do your small part to plant this small seed.
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