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XWEETOK DAY SPECIAL
Wanderlust (to Lilian Fairweather)
How cozy it is to sit
Here beside this blazing hearth
Amidst your books and articles,
Endless papers on bryophytes,
Moisture levels, the rare
Selerium taniverens and its sap --
How comfortable, how quaint,
Isn't it, Lilian?
You hesitate. Why?
The reason is obvious,
Even if you won't speak it --
This life is no life for you:
You're an adventurer born, Lilian!
Your eyes gleam behind those glasses
For the untravelled world that lies beyond
The blurry edges of the Neopian map --
Your heart hungers to roam,
To see, to experience,
To follow knowledge like a
To the end
Of the end
Of the world.
Just as the unused sword rusts,
So that edge and that gleam
Will fade if you remain idle amidst these
Crumbling books and yellowed pages --
Once again we'll board
The good ship S.S. Primella, and push off,
And journey, as we did before,
Though sunshine and thunder,
And sail beyond the sunset.
And seek, and strive, and learn.
The Xweetok Celebration
Wary in the moonlight tread,
Lest footfalls do reveal.
Your presence in these emerald woods
Is something to conceal.
Seek where boughs do whisper words,
Take cover in the dark.
Await parade of Xweetok folk,
Forth from the night so stark.
Each with lantern held aloft,
They sneak from glen and glade.
Velvet eyes bright in the dark,
They march in long parade.
Once a year they celebrate,
Beneath the moonlit sheen.
All that is a Xweetok 'thing,'
And all that it might mean.
In the clearing shall they dance,
In circles, singing soft.
Silken tails sway in time,
Like banners held aloft.
They perch upon the swaying boughs,
And gaze to distant land.
Knowing any Xweetoks there
Will sense and understand.
Nuts and berries shared around,
Creating jolly feast.
Laughter heard and tales told,
As sun lifts in the east.
Daylight scatters through the group,
And all shall scurry by.
A final "Happy Xweetok Day!"
Shall be the parting cry.
Xweetok Tag on a Frosty Night
Silent in the gloaming light,
Glistening with mounded snow,
The ancient trees sleep solemnly,
Bare limbs above, bright frost below.
What is that flicker at the root,
That rustle-whisper through the brush?
Next moment all is crystal-still...
The oaks stir, slumber, murmur "hush."
And then again: a shadow-flick,
A tiny breath, and nothing more...
But in the snow beneath the larch,
Pawprints that were not there before.
The fern, stooped under snowy weight,
Throws jet-black shadows on the ground,
But in that icy inky space
Two sapphires glow, blink, make no sound.
This is their subtle, silent game:
The flash of paws across the frost,
The disappearing whisk of tail,
The eyes, shimmering once, then lost.
The Xweetoks play at Forest-Tag,
Rocketing through the snow-stilled night,
Dashing beneath the ancient oaks,
And vanishing without a sight.
At last a gentle dawn-pink light
Brushes the branches, soft and pale.
Deep in the woods, a shadow sleeps,
Wrapped cozy in its twice-striped tail.
The Mutant Xweetok's Request
When you think of a Xweetok,
Do you let out a blissful sigh?
Imagine soft fur in bright colours
Or translucent faerie wings to fly?
I bet you think of something graceful,
And of what tiny little paws it's got.
A Neopet so very cute and loveable,
In short: all the things I'm not.
My tail isn't all that wide and fluffy,
And my eyes aren't bright and clear.
I've got mottled skin and sharp teeth,
And bitemarks across one ear.
Though I don't match all my cousins,
I'm a Xweetok through and through.
What makes me any less adorable?
It is just because my skin is blue?
I've got this bad reputation here,
And you know, it really isn't fair,
That you scream at the sight of me,
And jump up onto your chair.
I'm a Xweetok like the others are,
Though my tail is pink and bald,
I'm loving, gentle, tender, kind,
And I'll always come when called.
So won't somebody take me home?
A loving owner's all that I want.
One who thinks Xweetoks look best,
Only when they've become mutant.
Xweetok Vegetable Soup
Many want to drift on clouds,
Fly high into heights unknown.
Spend their days in serenity,
While they flutter all alone.
Others dive into adventure,
Explore vast, aimless lands.
Tracking beasts into darkness,
Time held within their hands.
Clouds fill some with envy,
Wandering through the sky.
Great excitement ahead,
In jungles or cliffs so high.
But as pets stew in jealousy,
The broth soaks their minds.
Surrounded by veggies,
Flavours of all kinds.
Steam puffs just like clouds,
Carrots roll in broth waves.
Xweetok pasta floats on top,
All pieces that pets crave.
Nothing compares to solitude,
When lounging in the soup.
Warm enough to melt hearts,
Of Darigan army troops.
So you can keep your clouds,
And adventure-ridden escapades.
Xweetok Vegetable Soup,
In your warmth Neopets fade.
Total Poetry Pages : 2008
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