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I am a total Sudoku nut!

No news to anyone who knows me.

I play it at work, on the train, any where I can.

I discovered Sudoku was available to add to a site or Blog so for all my visitors and especially the other Sudoku nuts out there . . .

. . . ENJOY!

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P.S. This is a "sticky post" and will remain on Verbiage Spillage for your entertainment. Enjoy :o)

Saturday, December 20, 2008

A Chritmas Tale



A CHRISTMAS TALE
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 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 an Australian soldier.
Was this the hero of whom I'd just read -
Curled up on a poncho, the floor for a bed?
I realised that 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 grown-ups 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 fought 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 honour so willing to fight.
Then the soldier rolled over, and 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 an Australian Peacekeeping soldier stationed overseas. Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due to all of our Service men and women for our being able to celebrate these festivities.

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