We left the tree up well past its time.
It was made of wood ~ it was a pine.
It shed its needles in bunches galore.
Made a mess of the carpet and the floor.
While it was regal and majestic as it stood
To decorate, took longer than it should.
The lights alone were a nightmare at best
Then came the ornaments and all the rest.
The whole ordeal was met by prickly spikes
That pierced the skin causing shouts of “Yikes.”
Persistence proved to make it appealing
And the tip of the tree reached clear to the ceiling.
Now it seemed a shame to take it down
Although its branches were mostly brown.
But since Christmas had passed on by
I couldn’t think of a reason why
It should keep on standing and continue to die.
Nary a present remained underneath
But awaiting a container was a pine cone wreath.
Wrinkled somewhat was the old red tree skirt
And one empty box that had held a plaid shirt.
So out came the cartons to refill again
With the garnish and ornaments. Where to begin?
A feeling of sadness washed over me
As I stared at a pretty but now naked tree.
Santa was the last decoration to go.
He had sat on top with his robe all aglow.
Once safely ensconced in his popcorn bed
There was no excuse for the next task ahead.
The furniture had to be moved back into place.
It had taken some shuffling to make a tree space.
Back breaking business to set it all right,
Took most of a day on into that night.
Needles still poked from the couch and the chairs.
They laid in hiding ~ we had to take care.
Sharp barbs the tree had managed to fling
Stuck to all surfaces, they continued to cling.
But now it’s all over for yet one more year
Before another tree will make its way inside here.
Maybe a fake one would make more sense
Although its foliage wouldn’t have the same scent.
I guess we’ll just have to wait and see
How much we remember about a pine tree.
Could be our memories won’t serve us so well
And next year again we’ll think pine is just swell!
Originally published in the January 2014 issue of The Cross Timbers Gazette.