The Night Before Thanksgiving

'Twas the night before Thanksgiving, when in the garage
A single tree was standing - no not a mirage!



The limbs were still greenish with spots of light brown,
But this had to be done, or the house might burn down.
Patricia was at work, earning some bread,
While visions of mulch danced in my head.
The dog was still playing, and I hadn't begun,



When Patricia arrived home and saw what I'd done.
The garage smelled of pine, she said with a smile,
I replied, "It will be better, if you wait just a while!"
To the hedge trimmer, I went with great speed,



While Patricia took Mambo away with the lead.
The needles began to fall to the ground,
While the trimmer made trim-trimming sounds.
I paused only to take some quick photo shots,
Though few are displayed, I really took lots!



I circled the tree, trimming all around,
Then swept all the clippings into a small mound.
The needles, the branches, and the rest of the tree
(Not the trunk, I mean just the debris),
Went into bags - big ones and brown -
To be picked up by trucks, owned by the town.



With the Christmas stick, I decided to play,
I made it hold the broom, in more than one way!
First, like a hook, it held it so high,
Then balanced across (You should give this a try!).



Finally, I finished, but for one task,
Chopping the trunk, but I had not an axe!
No matter, a friend with a saw came by, you see,
And saw he did; We saw him saw the trunk of the tree!
The sawing, I didn't take pictures of, though.
So you can't see, but at least you can know
How the Christmas tree from 2007,
Stayed with us until month number eleven,
And how after 339 glorious days,
We said our good-byes and parted our ways.
So to all who are reading, before saying good-night,
Know Patricia is happy, that it is out of her sight!