I think that I shall never be,
Sold on artificial trees.
A Christmas tree with plastic limbs
Just doesn’t stir me up to hymns.
A tree with needles made of foil,
From a factory instead of soil,
Although it will not burst nor shed,
It neither is alive nor dead.
Perennial, yes, it may rightly be,
And formed in perfect symmetry,
But only God can make a tree,
To suit old fashioned souls like me.
A Norway Spruce Christmas tree for me.