war is a racket
the ‘red’ is in lives
the ‘black’ is in dollars
far more than 10s and 5s
–
give decades of thanks
the end was within reach
they did what they must
up there on that beach

’twas the day before Christmas
a time to reflect

Syncretism of ages
and those who reject

Siberian Shamans
who gave us a gift

A Solstice Santa
that worked night shift

Mistletoe of Oak
Revered by the Celts

Kissed under by Greeks
hung well above belts

The Goths gave us Yule
adapted by Brits

A month’s long of carols
bring the end of our wits

Constantine’s conversion
would neither quiet nor hide

It rattled the foundations
of most known world wide

Pagans cut boughs
of evergreen trees

to encourage the sun
and avoid a deep freeze

Happy Birthday to Mithras
December Twenty-Five

Those ancient traditions
in some form alive

A wealth of influence
joined over time

Were all considered right
when they were in prime

so ’twas the night before Christmas
and not a war to be fought

Leave that to us veterans
who would rather war naught

There are those that refuse
with all of their might

Offer them goodwill
and to all a good night