'Twas the night before Christmas and all through space-time

Not a species was stirring, not even a bovine;

The scientists were spying on the sky with great care,

In hopes of finding some unique phenomenon there;

Most humanity asleep all snug in its bed,

With their minds devoid of alien dread;

My wife wore her mittens, and I, my wooly knit cap,

We strolled into the woods with our trusty star map;

When up in the sky just beyond the great spruce,

Appeared a bright light like a thunderbolt of Zeus;

Our eyes were transfixed by the white-hot flare,

And we shielded our faces from the heat it did bear;

The darkness, it fled like mice in midday,

And the snow glistened like it might melt away;

Then, turning my head to the light once again,

I saw a miniature spaceship and eight tiny green men;

Their craft was unreal, such an agile object,

No one could mistake it for some government project;

They zipped to and fro with short bursts of light,

Then whizzed by our heads, giving a fright;

They landed soft on the snow, tho’ no imprint be made,

Through the window, they waved as if needing aid;

Though scared at this sight, I decided to go,

Willing to help any creature in woe;

My wife at the ready to run and get help,

Should things turn out badly, should I let out a yelp.

Approaching it slowly, in the side formed a door,

And it dropped towards the ground as liquid to floor;

Then hardened into stairs, hovering yet firm,

I ascended the steps where the inside was warm;

The walls were all slick and silver like nickel,

The door closed behind me, my hair began to prickle;

An impulse took the craft swiftly into the air,

Pressing down hard against me, without care;

Then stopping atop the mighty tall spruce,

I slapped into the ceiling, leaving a bruise;

The little green men came to greet me with pause,

They stared and then held up a picture of Santa Claus;

My mind how it wondered at what they could mean,

Was it presents they wanted, these creatures of green?

I pulled from my pocket a gift wrapped with string,

And offered it to them, then a carol I did sing;

Their eyes shown wide - happy with delight,

To be hearing this song on a cold winter’s night;

They started to hum, and the present they took,

Unwrapping the gift, they discovered a book;

Turning the pages they could see Kringle’s cheeks,

On every page of Moore’s masterpiece;

After hugs went around and cocoa was drunk,

They returned me to earth, and my wife, with a thunk;

But before they turned and flew out of sight,

They posed for a selfie with us that night;

Tho’ no one believes me and all think me a mess,

I know aliens exist and celebrate Christmas.