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SYMOL DAY SPECIAL

The Darigan Symol
By Dragonstorm_75

Cold and calculating,
Filled with a vice,
His teeth are fitting,
As he is more naughty than nice.

The Darigan Symol,
Ochre and black.
Darker than a lump of coal,
With sharp claws for the attack.

Unlike his earthy kin,
Who dig without abandon.
With gems he does begin,
So shiny and so golden.

He hoards them with glee,
Sapphires and rubies.
And gold amongst them, see!
More numerous than Tyrowbees!

The garnet gem so lovely,
That the Symol guards it well.
He fights intruders fiercely,
Until them he does expel.

Nothing is stronger, not even swords,
Than a Darigan Symol among his hoards!

Scurrying Symol
By Anjie

Tunnel, tunnel, hurry, hurry,
Tiny claws do dig and scurry.

Obsidian, the lifted nose,
So wary, sniffs the air.
The tunnels seem a haven safe,
The world is big out there.

Slowly figure does emerge,
A scurry, sudden stop.
The passage to the entrance seems
A long way to the top.

Scrambling on the soil, soft,
Small Symol eyes seem wide.
His courage gathered, up he steps,
And greets the realm outside.

Tiny claws of onyx tone
Do grip the earth in fright.
A moment passes and he blinks,
Adjusting to sun's light.

Tiny figure, plump and round,
His coat toned silken fawn.
Morning greets the tiny being,
Who'll stretch up with a yawn.

In a frenzy, tail wags,
His waddling steps seem slow.
And yet when tunneling, it's a change,
So rapid, does he go!

Tunnel, tunnel, hurry, hurry,
Tiny claws do dig and scurry.

Robot Symols
By Mamasimios

Robot Symols with auger noses
Drilling, boring through the earth,
Penetrating rocks and boulders,
Mining stones of greater worth.

Untiring they make their passage
With the stamina of a machine.
Powered tracks propel them forward;
Metal claws are strong and keen.

No candled lamps to light their passage,
Not for these Symols a warming glow.
Only the glare of affixed light bulbs
To illuminate their paths below.

No labyrinthine twisting warrens,
Straight and orderly is their route.
With predetermined programming,
Efficient burrows are dug out.

Sheathed in metal outer casings,
These robot Petpets feel no cold,
But neither do they share their cousins'
Love of mud between their toes.

Perhaps one day these automatons
Will become self-aware
And contravening the protocols
Will emerge into the open air.

Would they with their shackles removed
Revel together in the sun?
Or would they make their great escape?
Would they simply turn and run?

One More Hole
By Reggieman721

Dig one more hole, just one more hole.
It's fine with me, my Symol friend.
Just dig your way out of my life,
If that's the way this has to end.

I brought you up. I raised you well.
I cared for you through all those years.
If all of that means nothing now,
So be it. I will cry no tears.

Dig one more hole, just one more hole.
You've torn apart our lawn before.
But if you choose to leave this home,
Then don't come back here anymore.

You've come and gone in sprays of soil,
And ruined more than just the grass.
You have my love, but not my trust.
I guess some things aren't meant to last.

Dig one more hole, just one more hole.
I'll take it as your fond adieu.
You've shown how much you want to go,
So this time, no one's stopping you.

I'll plant new grass. I'll lock the door.
I'll fill the tunnels one by one.
Don't worry; I won't look for you.
Once and for all, what's done is done.

Dig one more hole, just one more hole.
Go on. What are you waiting for?
I've given you permission, so
Why are you pausing by the door?

Have I opened your eyes at last?
You see where you were blind before?
If this is true, if you're sincere,
Come back to me. We'll end this war.

Not one more hole, not one more hole.
You hear me now, my Symol friend?
No holes between us anymore.
This doesn't have to be the end.

Symol's Rest
By Ntkgwgoty

Soft brown fur and snuffling nose,
Small sharp eyes and pointed toes,
Crawls beneath the dark warm earth,
Sleeps within its soil berth.

Claws to dig and a nose to smell,
Climbing from the earthen well,
Curls beneath the shading tree,
Sky is roaring like the sea.

Sun is blazing in the blue,
Symol is sleeping on and through,
The harshness of the flashing day,
'Neath the tree it softly lay.

Waiting for the whispered word
Of the wind that softly lured
It from beneath the dusty ground
In search of light it never found.

But who would want this balmy air?
For Symol is not happiest there.
Happier 'neath the spreading tree,
In the earth it finds its glee.

Tunneling through the darkness deep,
Away from breezy summer sleep,
Roll within the warm embrace,
Far beneath land's open face.

Waiting for Symols
By Concertogreat_8

Leaves turn orange, leaves turn gold,
Faerie ring round the Symol Hole;
Autumn comes in glorious array,
Roasted nuts in the southward breeze.

Down by the Symol Hole she crouches;
Day by day in the afternoons,
When the school is out and all gone home;
Down by the Symol Hole.

One, two,
I'm waiting for you.

Days grow damper, nights grow colder;
Little bit longer, little bit shorter;
Thicker skirts and woolen coats,
Boots and hats and scarves.

All day long she thinks of it;
Out the window when the teacher calls,
The little Usul lost in dreams
Of the Symol Hole, the Symol Hole.

Three, four,
The Symol Door.

The story goes, the Symols grow
Up in the big Symol Hole;
That's where they live, that's where they play;
See if you can befriend one today.

Symols run and Symols play,
Cavort and frolic in her head at night;
She's patient and quiet as she sits,
Day by day by the Symol Hole.

Five, six,
The clock ticks.

Symol Spying
By Xx_neomania

If you're quiet and you wait
Look closely, my dear,
And you will clearly see
A group of Symols gathers near.
No two are quite alike,
It's what makes them so unique,
A wondrous Petpet.
Look there, let's take a peek.

Ah, you see the dung one,
Look how he stays away.
His putrid smell keeps him
From finding one to play.
That devious little Darigan one,
Poking others with a stick.
Better not turn your back,
Or he'll offer you a kick!

Can't miss the chocolate one,
Boy, does he look good.
His friends would devour him,
If they only could.
Oh look, the robot one,
As he digs beneath the ground.
Just imagine all
The treasure to be found!

Watch the pirate one,
He's acting quite bizarre,
He simply stomps around,
Squeaking the phrase, "Arr!"
The plushie one makes me laugh;
He looks so cute and cushy.
You'd think he'd be a nice 'ol thing,
But he's actually rather pushy.

Shh! Don't make a sound.
They are nervous, full of fear.
Oh, now you've done it,
You've made a sound they hear.
See how they all do flee,
Running, they sprint, they roll,
Toward the tree o'er yonder,
Back down the Symol Hole.

The Symol Hole
By Fleaf

Keening, leaning is the tree.
Which shelters a portal, dark.
Endless is its winding depths,
A place where many hark.

A Petpet is pushed down the hole,
Into the twisting tunnels.
Silence abounds, resonating,
Slipping in the curvy funnels.

Suddenly, the Petpet returns
With something clutched, gentle.
A strange toy within its grasp,
The owner is joyed, sentimental.

As the pair walk away,
A creature watches from the hole.
A Symol, with tawny fur,
Waves from the knoll.

Symol Songs
By Spirit_of_johto

Have you ever heard a Symol song
With its sweet melodic muse?
Though some say intoxication is wrong,
I'm unsure how anyone'd refuse!
They burrow deep, a natural gift,
To find a comfy spot.
And if your spirit needs a lift,
Their notes are on the dot!

You may not think these creatures
Would play and dance and sing.
With such intelligent features,
I'd never doubt such a thing!
You may see them as burrowing all day long,
Or maybe simply a shy kind.
But if you hear a Symol song,
You'll be amazed at what you find!

They play songs by all my favourite bands for me;
From Blue Kacheek Group to Sticks 'N' Stones!
Music imitated so perfectly,
Any who listen become hypnotic drones!
If you ever heard a song with soul
That you particularly like,
Head on over to the Symol Hole;
The perfect notes they'll strike!

If you feel like singing,
I'm sure they'd like some company.
Keep the bells a-ringing,
And things will sound good naturally!
Today's the perfect day to visit,
But any day is fine!
The beat so perfect; you can feel it,
So sit back, relax, and let their voices shine!

A Little Green Symol
By Lily2b18

One little green Symol dreams of riches vast,
Caught by the light that his Petpetpet casts.
His name is Gwyl, as most of us know,
He collects gems by his Lightmite's glow.
He floats in the caverns dark and deep
And avoids spikes, sharp and steep.
Hung from a balloon he dangles above
While propelled from his Lightmite's breathy shove.
A little green Symol dreams of treasure troves,
So into a cavern that Symol dove.
Manoeuvring with the slightest breath
So as to not fall to his death,
He avoids dangers and troubles abound
Without a speck of Neopet assistance around.
He does it himself for his own gain,
Which is why he can stand the pain.

The Symol Emerges
By Chax1414

A fog lays low on the ground,
with Symols below it, not seen or found,
but today is a day where they will arrive,
from the holes to ensure you they are still alive.

When the Symol gets a whiff of the light breezes,
it is sure to lure as many as it pleases.
Because they are under the dark layer all year,
it is good for them to hear Neopia cheer.

Why is this? Well, it should be easy to see:
it is Symol Day, a day filled with glee.
Now, most are still in shock to see the big crowd,
but they should be fine, just don't be too loud.

As the day goes by,
they tire, you see,
and when they submerge below the grassy lands,
it can cause some misery.

But no more worries and no more fear,
for Symol Day will arrive next year.
Until then, the Symols will be underground,
digging and moving, not heard or found.

Silly Sammy Symol
By Soaringeagle25

Silly Sammy Symol
Doesn't live inside a Symol hole.
He's says he's rather afraid of dirt,
Or that is what he does assert.

Instead he lives inside a hut,
With the doors and windows clamped shut
To keep the grime and mud away,
While he scrubs the floors three times a day.

While all his friends go out for fun,
Silly Sammy's work is never done.
There's always just one more dusty spot
That hangs upon Sammy's thoughts.

So he stays inside and cleans
Until his floors shine with a sheen,
While all the Symols whispered and sneered,
Because they found Sammy's ways weird.

But then one day it was declared:
"A contest, every Symol compared."
To see which one had the best house of any size,
Winner would win a grand surprise.

And guess who won without a doubt --
Sammy twirled, with a scream and shout.
His home dazzled, polished and glowing,
He impressed the judges with his showing.

So now his neighbours murmur with envy
Of his highly praised house and shiny trophy.
But guess where Sammy is: on the floor,
Cleaning the dirt the judges left near the door.



Total Poetry Pages : 1868

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