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With my profound apologies to Clement Moore, I give you my version of his poem:
Twas the Night before Harvest Christmas Poem
Twas the night before Harvest, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The wires for drying were hung with much care,
In hopes that the buds would soon dry in the air.
The buds would be stored, all snug in their jars,
While visions of a perfect cure danced inside ours.
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.
When down in the basement there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the stairs I flew like a flash,
Tore open the door, and ran to our stash.
A fan had malfunctioned and the temperature was low,
Giving a sick ugly look to the plants down below.
When did it start? What was now happening?
Something was wrong, something was clattering.
I leaped down the stairs, taking three at a time,
I knew something bad was occurring, something mis-aligned.
More rapid than a rock band, the noise kept occurring,
Getting louder and louder, never deterring.
Attacking the first fan, I pushed and I poked,
Could it be you who is the cause of this smoke?
Not finding the answer, I turned to the next,
It was there that I found it, the cause of the mess.
The dust and the grime of several years service,
had taken its tole, without giving notice.
The fan was a gonner, a blade had poked through.
It needed replacement, with one much more new.
So the fan was replaced with a spare kept onhand
and with the lovely crop properly fanned,
I went back upstairs to rest for the Harvest,
and wondered if this could be one of my largest.
The next morning we admired the crop,
and inspected the buds from bottom to top.
Some were bigger and juicer than the rest,
and we knew that this time, it was some of the best!
I thought of the taste. I thought of the smell.
But I knew it would take time to tell
The first step would be cutting and hanging all around,
to sit in the dark till proper crispness be found.
So we cut and we hung, and we hung and we cut
and filled with buds, our special drying hut.
It was a dark little place that we put our new crop.
To snap but not break was the point we would stop.
Three days later we called to our friends,
A trimming party! The reward at the end!
Our friends gathered, and helped trim the stash,
For hours and hours we worked and we laughed.
We had fun and we joked, as we trimmed the buds,
and carefully inspected each of the nugs.
Snipping fan and sun leaves as we went,
Harvest day is always a fun time spent!
It's all now in jars, sealed for the cure,
Enhancing the taste and potency for sure.
Another crop is in, and it is a joyous sight,
Happy Harvest to all, and to all a good-night!
Merry Christmas and Happy Harvests to everyone here at Cannabis.COM
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emyila, a very Happy Christmas to you, as well. And always, good Harvests! With lotsa pot for a very, very Happy New Year! 
re
Originally Posted by emilya
pr
crackin read v funny!
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