Twas the Night Before Peak Season

'Twas the night before Peak Season, and all through the warehouse,

Not a forklift was stirring, nor even a mouse.

The shelves were all stocked with precision and care,

In hopes that next-day shipping would soon be there.

The workers were nestled all snug at their docks,

While visions of pick paths danced through the blocks.

And I in my vest, with my clipboard and cap,

Had just settled my WMS for a quick recap.

When out by the dock there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my office to see what was the matter.

Away to the loading bay, I flew like a flash,

Tripped over some pallets and made quite the crash.

The moon on the stretch-wrap of shipments aligned,

Gave a luster of mid-day to orders combined.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a driverless truck with eight drones in the rear.

With a little old manager, lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be Saint Nick.

More rapid than RFID his commands they came,

And he whistled and shouted and called them by name:

"Now Picker! Now Packer! Now Loader and Sorter!

On Scanner! On Pallet! On Dockside Transporter!

To the end of the aisle, to the freight elevator,

Dash away, dash away, there’s no time for later!"

As cartons that fly when conveyor belts hum,

When they meet with a sorter, it swiftly gets done.

So up to the mezzanine the drones they flew,

With bins full of parcels, and Saint Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the floor,

The beeping and buzzing of scanners galore.

As I grabbed my clipboard and turned to look 'round,

Down the conveyor came Nick with a bound.

He was dressed in hi-vis from his head to his feet,

And his vest was reflective, his look quite complete.

A bundle of labels he had on his back,

And he moved through the aisles with a seamless track.

His eyes—how they twinkled! His clipboard how merry!

His barcode scanner was sleek, modern, and cherry.

His operational plan was as tight as could be,

And he managed inventory like a true 3PL G.

He spoke not a word but went straight to his task,

And filled all the orders with speed that surpassed.

Then laying his stylus aside on his pad,

He checked all the metrics and looked rather glad.

He sprang to his drones, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the launch of a missile.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

"Happy Peak Season to all, and to all a good night!"