Unfinished. I told myself I'd post it on Christmas Day whether it was done or not. Song: Pokemon Christmas Melody (credit to whoever help make it.) Here's what the whole modified poem: 'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the land Not a pokemon was fighting, not even a donphan; The pitcher plants were hung by the trunk with care, In hopes that the Delibird soon would be there; The pidgeys were nestled all snug in their nests, While visions of oran berries danced in their heads; And fearow in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap, Had just settled down for a long winter's nap, When out in the clearing there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the nest to see what was the matter. Away to the tree I flew like a flash, Tore open the leaves and threw up a branch. The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below, When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a miniature sleigh, and four tiny stantlers, With a little old driver, so lively and blurred, I knew in a moment it must be Delibird. More rapid than dodrios his coursers they came, And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name; "Now lead on Psychic! Hypnotic you help him! Pull hard my Hoofer! You to my Stomper! To the top of the canopy! to the top of the forest! Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!" As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky, So up to the tree-top the coursers they flew, With the sleigh full of toys, and Delibird too. And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the tree The prancing and pawing of each little hoof. As I drew in my hand, and was turning around, Down the hollow trunk Delibird came with a bound. He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot, And his fur was all tarnished with bark and wood; A bundle of toys he had flung on his back, And he looked like a voltorb just opening his pack. His eyes -- how they twinkled! his beak how merry! His cheeks were like roses, his tail like a sack! His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, And the tufts on his head were as white as the snow; His tail sack he used to hold the many goodies, And many a spearow would be thrilled to have a look; He had a broad face and a little round belly, That shook, when he laughed like a grimer or muck. He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old bird, And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself; A wink of his eye and a twist of his head, Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread; He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, And filled all the pitcher plants; then turned with a jerk, And laying his finger aside of his beak, And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose; He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight, "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."
