Dizzojay's Dean Dreams (dizzojay) wrote,
Dizzojay's Dean Dreams
dizzojay

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National Poetry Day

It's National Poetry day, so I'm joining in the poetry fun with one of my own creations!

In the United States and Canada, April is National Poetry Month. It was established in 1996 by the Academy of American Poets, so this is the twentieth time it"s been celebrated in the US. In Canada, it"s the eighteenth. Here"s how you can celebrate this literary holiday.:


Title: The Night Before Christmas (sorry, very unseasonal!)
Summary: Dean knew that she was special; his kickass, awesome car ...
Disclaimer: I don't own Dean, Sam, Impala or anyone else
Warniings: Christmas fluff!




xxxxx

Dean knew that she was special; his kickass, awesome car,

His baby gleamed much brighter than any shooting star,

The brothers were a double act and 'Baby', she made three,

And one bleak Christmas Eve showed just how special she could be.

xxxxx

She'd hunted with the Winchesters for twenty years or more,

She'd seen wickedness and evil; monsters by the score,

She'd been broken down and dirty, she'd had her share of dents,

Plus a little puff of faerie dust which blew into her vents.

xxxxx

She'd clung onto it jealously, not giving it away,

That little speck of magic saved for a rainy day,

Across the years she kept it, a secret, silent ploy,

For the time that she could use it to help her precious boys.

xxxxx

As the brothers slept this Christmas Eve, slumped into her seat,

Lonely, cold and hurting, without anything to eat,

Parked up in the pouring rain, she made a silent vow,

This night they needed Christmas cheer - that rainy day was now.

xxxxx

Her headlamps flickered into life, blazing hot and bright,

Cutting through the darkness like two beacons in the night,

She released the wisp of faerie dust and watched it rise and spread,

And illuminate a magic sleigh that was soaring overhead.

xxxxx

The faerie dust, it glittered there in Santa's pure white beard,

And glowed like shining starlight on the coats of his reindeer,

He looked down through the rainclouds upon Baby's sleek, black hood,

And he saw that she was helping two lost souls he knew were good.

xxxxx

She suddenly felt weightless, rising up into the sky,

And there beneath the moonlight she found out that she could fly,

And when she finally alighted, without the slightest sound,

There was snow falling around her and carpeting the ground.

xxxxx

It twinkled and it glinted, so crystalline and bright,

Covering her rooftop with an irridescent light,

The elves ran out to greet her and they opened up her doors,

And watched two sleeping hunters tumble out onto the floor.

xxxxx

"… the hell?" Dean gasped in disbelief, and brushed snow from his arms,

As he looked to find his brother sitting safely and unharmed,

The elves all spoke in chorus, as they pulled them to their feet,

"Somebody who loves you thinks that you deserve a treat."

xxxxx

Staring at each other, the brothers gaped in awe,

At this scene so much more beautiful than any seen before,

Despite the chill around them they felt blanketed with love,

As they stood and watched the northern lights dance silently above.

xxxxx

The elves led them to a cottage with a table laden high,

A banquet of roast turkey and of giant cherry pie,

With eggnog flowing freely and cold beer to quench their thirst,

The brothers feasted cheerfully til they were fit to burst.

xxxxx

Suddenly a voice rang out, melodious and low,

Across the brothers' noisy cheer and chuckled, "ho ho ho",

As Santa's gifts, all gaily wrapped, were passed to Sam and Dean,

Of books and socks and candy bars and naughty magazines.

xxxxx

And Impala stood and waited til the dark gave way to light,

And she listened to the laughter that drifted through the night,

The music and the singing and the voices of her boys,

As she pictured both their faces glowing bright with Christmas joys.

xxxxx

Dawn was breaking at the roadside as the brothers both awoke,

Sitting in Impala, and neither of them spoke,

As they looked at all their presents, then each other, faces blank,

Dean gently squeezed her steering wheel. He knew who they had to thank.

xxxxx

end


Tags: dean winchester, fan fiction, impala, national poetry day, sam winchester, supernatural
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