The Little Potted Christmas Tree
She was a small tree, cute to see.
She was a unique tree, one of three.
She was covered in faux snow, this tree.
"She's outside the florist's window," she told me.
We walked past the florist; one, two, three.
"We need to get that tree," she said to me.
We walked towards the florist, "Come and see."
We stood and scanned the tree, "I agree."
We had no free hands to carry the tree,
"Let's come back later," said me.
Later came and went; we kept looking at the tree.
"We need to buy the tree," said she to me.
Rushing, always rushing, when our time was free;
All the while postponing the time to buy the tree.
"I will take these things home with me,
If you can, could you please get the tree?"
"No promises," said me.
I walked and walked, thinking of the tree;
When I was almost near the florist with the tree,
I looked at my hands, then I looked at the tree.
"Oh, what the heck! I'll take it home with me!"
Shopping in one hand and the other held our tree.
The look on my sister's face was filled with pure glee.
"Oh! You got the Christmas tree!"
Only small LED lights were wrapped around the tree.
"I cannot do this, can you please help me?"
So, I untangled the lights operated by battery,
"Ok, leave it up to me."
She stood on a small table between my sister and me.
She stood bright and proud, our little tree.
"And this," said she, "This!
"This is Christmas to me."
- strictlyLeisure (AK)
~ Based on my first Christmas in London ~