O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree,
You truly are a beauty.
I used to love to put you up,
Now it's a dreaded duty.

Lugging you out from storage
Gets more strenuous each year,
And assembling all your branchy parts
Does not fill me with cheer.

Then each and every little stem
I tediously unflatten.
Your artificial symmetry,
It doesn't...just...happen.

Next challenge is your tree lights,
Which I always have to wrangle.
No matter how I've coiled them,
They unwind in a tangle.

A few choice words escape me
As I clear the final knot,
Then turn to find the other end
Has formed another clot.

I string them from your branches,
Draping with the greatest care,
To find that I've run out of lights,
Your bottom third still bare.

After some more botched attempts
They're artfully arranged.
Your lights are nice and even
Though I'm feeling quite deranged.

These days the decorating
Doesn't hold the same appeal.
Now that the kids are all grown up,
It's left for me to deal.

I miss the days when they were young,
We'd trim your boughs together.
With Christmas carols playing,
They are memories I treasure.

Your ornaments now look just right
From every viewing angle,
But at your back against the wall,
The not so nice ones dangle.

At long last the job is done.
It's taken me all day;
Too worn out to appreciate
Your beautiful display.

On Christmas Day you play your part,
All twinkling in resplendence,
With family all gathered round
And opening their presents.

O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree,
A sight extraordinary;
Must steel myself to pack you up,
It's almost February!