Nature

Christmas Tree

Gnarled huge and grisly, tangle web like vine.

Twisted for years, like a father of all time.

Overhang forms a canopy, green laden boughs.

Blossom explodes at Christmas, beauty is now.

You’re the special native, our own Christmas tree.

No Norfolk Pine, topped by a cross for all to see.

Clear topped-not fairy tipped-still remains majestic.

Red flowers in clusters, give air rather festive.

Over this country, in garden-reserves- parks-stand.

Beautiful Christmas Puhutakawa, native of our land.

Never cease to give us, fire-ball-magic-unique.

Stand on every corner plot-a tree no need to seek.

Copyright Kathy M Lawson