A Christmas Fishing Poem

I wrote this foolishness a few years ago, and incorporated a number of fishing buddies' names in it. It's a goofy take on "Twas the Night Before Christmas" which is obvious:

Twas the night before season, when all on the river,
Not an angler was stirring, not even a shiver.
The Green Machines ready, and tied on with care,
In hopes that a salmon run, soon would be there.

When upstream a splash came over the river,
Like beavers when startled, the surface it quivered.
Around the far bend, there came ol' Saint Perry,
Darrin hot on his heels, the wish-granting fairy.

Their rods were all strung with the finest of lures
The fish were all done for ... of that I was sure.
On brown trout, on brookies, they cast with their tackle,
On shad and big stripers, that mangled the hackle.

To the top of the riffle, to the top of the pool,
They hollered and yelled, like a couple of fools.
As Keith watched the river on that wasted night,
Some nitwit decided to turn on a light.

The fish they were spooked, and everywhere scattered,
Till nothing was hooked, but what did it matter?
And Ken with his Power Pro, and Liv with his jokes,
Were laughing at Troutin', as another rod broke.

But it's all in good fun, and it's all in good cheer,
Merry Christmas to all of ya, and a Happy New Year.