All
yule
trees are
art official
designed by our
childlike minds before
our hands transform them
from ordinary fir into wintry
tis-the-season and tinsel-wearing
shrines of light, glad tidings bearing
ornaments and mirth-making pine
needles on a Ho! Ho! Ho!
trunk, standing
merrily
merrily
merrily


Poet’s Note:

For another shape poem, try The Fate of Easter Eggs. Reactions to my poems are welcome in the comments section. Thank you for reading!