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In the quiet before Christmas, a boy sits and sees
All the lights gently glowing hung on the tree;
And ornaments, they glisten and shine in the light,
Calling him closer while others sleep through the night;
The one of his choosing is red as a cherry
For the color is joyful and makes him feel so merry;
While holding the bulb carefully in his hand;
A slow, gentle change begins through the land.
The boy feels it softly, but is not disturbed
As slowly but surely his form gets more furred.
His pants of green slowly fade into naught
And his red shirt soon follows, but there's no draught;
For quick as they vanish fur soon takes their place
And the changes spread upward to include his face.
A cute little muzzle and round little ears,
He watches in wonder, but has no fears.
A tail he feels growing and he moves it with joy;
And great, happy feelings fill up the former boy.
For he loves no creature more now than he sees
Reflected in the ornament below the tree;
A raccoon with a Santa cap perched on his head
Without any sorrow or feeling of dread.
The bulb in his hand is now even more pretty
While others start changing throughout the city.
A sudden noise warns him; another has woken!
He turns to see who it is, and a voice softly spoken;
"Red, my dear kit, I know how you feel,"
"That tree is so pretty; it seems hardly real!
"But even raccoons must have some sleep,
"Though, if you like it, that bulb you can keep."
His mother, a raccoon just like him, kissed his head
And gave him some milk before sending him to bed.
As she tucked him in, Red looked at her with a question in mind;
"Mom, have we always been creatures of our kind?"
"What an odd question! Have you been dreaming?
We've certainly had no other seeming!
A family of raccoons, what else would we be?
You must have been dreaming under the tree.
Now rest my dear kit, and sweet dreams to you!
Let the peace of this season your hope renew!"
So Red lay down sleepy, his eyes last on his treasure,
For shinies are beyond any other measure.
And so visions of shinies all glistening bright
Filled his dreams while the stars shown in the night.
And the quiet snow of winter lay soft on the ground
And blessed darkness covered all around.
Magic can happen on Christmas, they say
And so Red had learned on that day.
All the world was made better, in forms anew
And the old not remembered, except by the few
Who happened to be awake in the night
When transformation magic took flight!My half of a trade with the talented
Beast-Boy based on his adorable picture of the same title.
Category Poetry / Transformation
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 50 x 50px
File Size 14.4 kB
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