• The attic was dusty,
    and wooden boards did creek,
    but i could not leave,
    until i found the treasure I seeked.

    There in corner,
    of that dark, dusty place,
    lay a big heaping bag,
    that brought a smile to my face.

    I pulled it hard,
    and held on tight,
    i had to take it down,
    and get it ready for christmas night.

    Out of the attic,
    it fell with a thud,
    as it hit the floor,
    i could only think "Crud..."

    But the treasure was fine,
    the treaure was great,
    nothing did crack,
    nothing did break.

    So up the stairs,
    the treasure i did drag,
    and when i reached the top,
    i opened the bag.

    I peeked inside,
    my eyes filled with glee,
    as i slowly revealed,
    our old christmas tree.

    its green bristles glistened,
    and though it was fake,
    it was just as good as real,
    and my breath it did take.

    The beauty it shown,
    each winter night,
    was a cherished memory,
    i held onto tight.

    The tree stood tall,
    and the tree stood proud,
    its beauty was enough,
    to awe any crowd.

    I remebered when dad,
    first brought it out from the car,
    and i rememberd how i,
    was help up to place the star.

    those christmas's were long ago,
    i rememberd as it stood high from the floor,
    it was magic to me then,
    and it was magic once more.