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Ode to the Shenkuu-Inspired Paper Parasol
Delicate shelter, fragile frame,
Each thread shall span, extend.
Forth from pinnacle atop,
Doth paper sheath ascend.
Surely it's a princess who
Doth hold your handle's grasp?
None but she of regal line,
Seems fine enough to clasp.
Sunlight trickles like the rain,
To dapple paper sheath.
Oh parasol, you do protect
Your keeper underneath.
Delicate as Shenkuu's realm,
The patterns soft, like lace.
Blossoms like pink silk adorn,
And over paper trace.
No finer thing do many crave,
Than to hold you high.
Spinning parasol around,
Beneath the Shenkuu sky.
To coyly peer from paper folds,
As patterns twirl and wind.
Your very presence doth create,
An image quite refined.
Shenkuu inspires this design,
Evoking thoughts of spring.
Such sunlight wound within the sheaths,
Of such a fragile thing.
The Temper of the Krawk Queen
Lush velvet trimmings, golden bright throne,
Riches and rank beyond mind.
The royal sceptre of glowing bloodstone,
The finest kingdom of all history combined.
Her steely eyes pierce, her sharpened claws shine,
Unyielding beauty of unearthly divine.
Supreme royal air, nonchalant bored stare,
She preens on her lofty throne perch.
The Neopets though fair melt under her glare,
When she raises her pinky, they lurch.
Hop to your paws, be nimble on your feet,
Don't give reason for her anger to greet.
They remember the day when one had betrayed.
Lo! That unlucky poor wretched Kacheek
Her lips reached a snarl, her face stony jade.
From his pitiful mouth fled a shriek,
For no one crosses the Magnificent Krawk Queen
If they have a concern for their well-being.
A Tomb of Mystery
Take a ferry across the waters,
Of the Neopian ocean deep,
To an island of mystery,
Where Ghost Lupe's soul sleeps.
Passing by the local shops,
Beyond a dojo's walls.
Running past volcanoes
And through the waterfalls.
Into the deepest jungle waits,
A link to a past unknown.
Deserted village of local lore,
Wild cries echo and drone.
Up the broken, stony steps,
A tomb looms ahead,
Filled with wonders of treasure lost,
Creatures of which to dread.
Vine-covered door rumbles,
As it reveals the path inside.
Entering at one's own risk,
In hope travellers do confide.
Walking through the darkness,
The floor suddenly starts to quake.
Whining noises are flashing by,
Wooden spears cause nerves to shake.
On and on the pathway turns,
Rooms scattered here and there.
Passing by a near corridor,
Two red eyes begin to stare.
Running faster down the trail,
Angry Hissi close behind.
Grasping to the wall for balance,
A small staircase hidden within vines.
Losing the predator up the stairs,
Only a thousand steps to go.
A lofty room glows ahead,
Perhaps treasure stored from below.
Fiddlesticks! The treasure is gone,
Now what will occur?
Unless there is another way,
The stairs lead to a Hissi's lure.
Feeling around the dusty wall,
A stone panel starts to shift.
The wall crumbles into a heap,
Opening a giant rift.
Cold air wafts in gentle blows,
A new pathway to travel.
Corridors dank and murky,
The mystery starts to unravel.
More spikes come shooting by,
Strange noises ricochet against stone.
Passing by another room,
Filled with heaping piles of bones.
Then when all was thought lost,
The corridor started to twist.
One room rested ahead,
Shrouded within the mist.
Pushing back the vegetation,
A little face pokes through.
Tribal markings adorn,
A face tilted askew.
Fear overcomes curiosity,
As the little creature runs away.
But where he was standing,
A chest was left to stay.
With deep anticipation,
A gulp to find some nerve,
The lid is lifted with hesitation,
The contents start to curve.
Gold dubloons begin to flow,
And cover the tomb floor.
A great treasure discovered,
Riches and gems galore.
At last the journey has ended,
And the treasure is in hand.
But how to leave with such wealth,
Back to the safety of solid land?
It takes three days but finally,
The tomb lies in memories.
To the Trading Post to buy
Rare items and pleasantries.
Only the brave travellers know
Of what great lengths they went
To acquire such a fortune
From the tombs of Geraptiku.
For Love of Robots
The Robot colour is a hoot!
It garners many mixed reviews.
Some think the shell is super-cool.
Some love the look of wire and fuse!
I personally love the look
Of Robot casing on the pets.
The wires, on the other hand,
Are scary and they make me fret!
But some are avid fans of pets
Without their Robot casing on.
They want their pets to look quite fierce
And flaunt their mechanistic brawn.
I guess the choice comes down to this:
What will you use your Robot for?
For showing off its shiny shell
Or Battledoming during war?
I hope this poem's food for thought!
The Robot pet is quite unique.
It brandishes a wealth of looks
And every single look is chic!
The Deserted Fairground
Beyond the Haunted Woods' hollow trees,
Beyond its creaky, rusty gates,
Stands the Fairground, basking in its shadows --
Grotesque entertainment awaits.
Why not visit the Coconut Shy stand
And knock down a coconut or two?
Or the Cork Gun Gallery
With prizes waiting just for you.
Toss a Bagatelle ball, see what you'll get,
But be careful that you won't be cheated.
Test your strength with a big wooden mallet;
With its rewards, you may not be delighted.
Make some purchases, spend your NP
On the furniture, food, and weapons shops,
Or make a gamble and buy a scratchcard --
If you're lucky, its jackpot will make you hop.
Spin the Wheel of Misfortune,
Watch as round and round it goes,
Something good or something bad --
Nobody really knows.
In the Fairground, you are sure to enjoy
The entertainment that will drive you mad,
But there is one thing that I bet on --
Its fun is nothing like you ever had.
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