All year long,
Photo albums and scrapbooks provide keepsakes like a family song.
They can be opened at any time
To fill our hearts with treasures so sublime.
However, one time a year,
In a December so near
We bring out a dusty old box from the attic
Containing trinkets of the past so dynamic
To display on a tree –
Live, flocked, green, white, sparkling – one full of glee.
The branches remain as picture hangers like nails,
Always collaged through many years of family tales.
The tourist style from a family vacation
To theme parks or to the capitol of our nation.
The hand painted angel made by a five-year-old daughter with eyes full of spark
In ceramics, while on back, leaving her name as a mark.
That special Santa collectible
Mama couldn’t wait to find obtainable.
The very first one given as a gift after marriage
Always hanging as the first one placed from a special box like a carriage.
Whatever the name – Christmas or Holiday – one calls it so.
This tree is a gift each year as the nostalgia continues to grow.
Traditions are passed down to each generation to share
Continuing the Memory tree with love and care.
The Quotable Raven 
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