The Tree, at Night
The spruce boughs looks so much larger once we get inside,
green needles trickle to the ground, a slow and steady tide,
so tall and stately you’d not know it had a bumpy ride;
even bare it is quite a sight,
the tree looks quite sublime at night.
The lights go first in their circuit, and not those plain, white ones,
but colors just a bit garish, they’re always much more fun,
a star on top so the Wise Men can’t miss the Blessed Son;
silver tinsel reflects the light,
the tree looks quite sublime at night.
The ornaments from boxes old, brought out once more to play,
silver balls and crazy Santas, angels with their wings splayed,
ones we made in Kindergarten, they too will have their day;
golden garlands wrap it up tight,
the tree looks quite sublime at night.
Candy canes give the kids a treat (They never eat them all!),
the dog looks on and cocks his head, then curls up in a ball,
fire flickers and shadows meld with light against the wall;
beats back the pall of winter’s blight,
the tree looks quite sublime at night.
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