Little old ladies, little old men,
On Christmas shopping sprees,
Hugging purses, clutching billfolds,
As they search for Christmas trees.
Artificial, plastic trees,
That come in greens and whites,
Pre-decorated and pre-lit,
With pretty twinkling lights.
Oh, so many - all alike,
Shaky fingers lift them down,
Carefully they look at them,
Turning each tree round and round.
Where's the price tag? Who can read it?
The print is smaller now, you know,
Oh ... that's too much ... put it back,
There are cheaper ones below.
There's a little one that's pretty,
Oh yes ... but ... it's so small,
You know, we never had a tree,
Less than six feet tall.
Well, no more trees like that, my dear,
That was then; this is now,
You can't handle one that big,
Where would you put it anyhow?
Oh ... that's right ... of course,
For a moment ... I forgot,
I was thinking of the kids
What they wanted, when I shopped.
"LADY, DO YOU WANT THAT TREE?
PLEASE MAKE UP YOUR MIND!
THERE'S OTHER PEOPLE WAITING HERE,
YOU'RE HOLDING UP THE LINE!"
Oh dear ... oh my ... oh pardon me,
I guess I'm in the way,
I was just looking for a tree,
To have on Christmas day.
There .. that one .. that's the one,
The green one ... up in front,
No .. not the white one .. I want green,
Yes, that's the tree I want.
Little old ladies, little old men,
Their chosen trees in grocery sacks,
Hurrying home to decorate,
With bits of this and bits of that.
In the evening, home alone,
Tiny, twinkling Christmas trees,
Are cheering gentle, lonely souls,
And stirring up old memories.
Christmas is for kids, they say,
I've heard that time and time again,
But that's not fair; it must be shared,
With these old ladies and old men.
Six-foot trees and toys and things,
Are children's Christmas pleasures,
But plastic trees and memories,
Are old folk's Christmas treasures.
Little old ladies, little old men
Sometimes cry at Christmas time,
Caught up in special, private thoughts,
With precious pictures in their minds.
Let them have their tiny trees,
These old ladies and old men,
Let them enjoy the Day their way,
One day you may be one of them.
Virginia (Ginny) Ellis
2005
