Did you know - you can calculate the age of a synthetic tree by dividing its kilowattage per hour by nanometres of accumulated dust? At least, that's what Santa told me last year...
Perhaps this poem presages the advent of the 'virtual Christmas', with everyone gathering round the ultra-flat monitor for a festive webcast.
Poignancy is but one element of merit in the substance of this seasonal lament.

sad, alison. although, i would have to argue that i don't think it's so bad to bring in a real tree. agreed - its life is cut shorter by the season, however, what other time does a tree have to be such a beautiful addition to a home, adored by all who see it? :)

...ali, this is round in it's capture of moments...all 360degrees! i was up there in that attic, at the Christmas morns, excitment and even the plastic tree...i'm so old that when those un-real trees came it VOILA1 you were rich. deep, a caress in words of the lovely ol' tannebaun.

And...a WW entry - deserves a generous helping of votes. Here's one that won't count, but it's a kind of 'moral support' thing :>

Such an engaging piece, drawing me into your Christmas rituals and changes. The prelit trees are all the rage - such an easy put-together now-a-days. Remember also that live Christmas tree farms are plantations with one goal - to grow and cut their trees for Christmas use. They will be cut and new ones planted, whether we buy them or not. Enjoy.

I have to say this poem really put me in a funk. This will be my first year, since I was in the military 33 years ago, I will not be home for Christmas. I will miss my children most of all and my mother, brothers, sisters and friends. But I wish you a Merry Christmas, Alison, for your wonderful words 'unsung'.

Really nice write Alison. We have a small, 2ft, tree we stand on a table. It stays wraped up all year long with lights and ornaments that seem quite content to wait 11 months of the year just to brighten up the world for a few weeks. But it is now our turn to visit the kids at some fairly central point to make sure they are surviving OK without a lot parental direction.

Strong reminder of how time marches on, and the little ones grow up to leave the nest, with all the more impact this time of year.

Heartfelt, Alison as readers perceive, and such a great title. But, like the heart itself, it's what's inside that counts, and I hope the magic that IS hanging about will find you and your scattered brood in moments of memory, thankful for the past, fully aware of this season, and looking forward to the rolling year bringing reunion to you all. Thanks.