Decorating the Tree

The Christmas lady dons her emerald cloak
woven from bristles of ageless green and sprinkled with emerald sequins.

She looks at her necklaces—they’ve been saved for this special occasion.
There are too many to choose from.
Garlands of red? Silver or gold?
Glitter, sequins, flowers, or no?
Earrings of pearls or crowns of stars?
The decisions are too much and the time too short;
She drapes herself in cloth and tosses scarves of tinsel over her shoulder.
Collars of lights and bulbs line her neck and face.

She is running late!
She hangs toys for the children on each of her arms.
Planes, birds, flowers, words.
Now, she’s quite the merry sight:
Crisscrossed with enough lights for a noble’s delight.
Her colors scream of a year soon past, as she scrambles to put on the final part. . . .

She smiles at her hat—the finishing touch—
A gleaming star perched atop her head, shining bright enough to blind passersby.
“Perfect,” she sighs, then looks at her reflection in the window one more time,
Before at last sitting down to rest, framed in sparkles
from her glamorous dress.