'Twas the week before Christmas, the warehouse, a bustling delight,
Not a soul at rest, through long days and nights.
The shelves were stocked with goods put away,
With plans that orders be flying out today.
The pickers were nestled, dreams in their heads,
As packages danced, filling up sleds.
With a hum of machines, and a beep in the air,
The warehouse was alive, a symphony extraordinaire.
Then out on the dock, a delivery truck's clatter,
A signal that St. Nick's team was about to scatter.
With speed and with cheer, the packages flew,
A holiday hustle and fulfillment crew.
St. Nick in red, from head to his heel,
Loaded each order with a nod and a squeal.
And as he vanished, up the belt he did rise,
"Happy warehousing to all, and off to the skies!"