Tree Topper - (short poem)

Patty, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful and I know what you did was dear,

And that your intention was to give a memory full of yuletide cheer,

I appreciated the trip to the pine tree farm, very much,

At the garden of olives—it was an ideal lunch

And I don’t mean to be, such a bother or a bore

But what you have given me is just another task, another chore.

While he’s off watching fool’s ball,

My hands will be quite sore,

Besides, the needles are already browning

And I’m already frowning

At the hours this phantom limb is demanding

Unobtrusively ever green and reprimanding…

So as I don’t mean to be mean,

Patty, I don’t intend to sound ungrateful or queer, and I know what you did was dear…

…but could you perhaps, maybe, not get us a Christmas tree next year?