A tackle trunk beneath a tree.
It's knurled top a bright red-brown.
A rod leaned up against it's side
bought at a store from the next town.
A magic moment held in time
by elves for parents that I pride,
but not for gifts at Christmas time;
for thoughts abound and in their stride.
The tree Blue Spruce with silver boughs
seen standing still in vacant air.
The room aglow with warmth and wishes.
The first to view as though a prayer.