We were sent to fetch the Christmas tree
Up Brumley Ridge way high.
Pines, Pinion, and crisp blue Spruce
We looked, but passed them by.
Dad's old truck pushed through the snow
Round twists and turns and cold.
Some too fat, and some too thin--
Some trees were just too old.
We chanced upon the clearing,
The moon climbed up the sky--
A perfect one all by itself
Perchance for us to try.
It just took a bit of time
to cut that sweet tree down
To load it on my Dad's old truck,
and head back down to town.
A little past the midnight hour
To Grandma's home we pressed--
The pine pitch sweet air
Added to that tree; all DRESSED.
Now none of us took ribbons,
And no one brought little lights
But our tree was decorated
Awe struck our silence in delight
Like the Miracle that happened
In Bethlehem so very long ago
Our little tree was Gifted
Beyond cones and frost and snow.
I remember that Christmas Tree
And the trek up the mountains that year
My partner's gone Home without me
But that memory will ever be dear.
© J.Lurell Bailey
17 Dec 2018
Message Thread
« Back to index