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LENNY DAY SPECIAL
A Lenny Day Conundrum
Lenny Day was a time filled with fun,
Yet of unhappy Lennies there was still one.
On his slender face there was a pout,
For there was a question he just couldn't figure out.
His friends sought the answer to paint him a smile,
But a solution could still not be found after a while.
Frustrated, the others left to celebrate,
But, possessed by curiosity, the Lenny stayed up late.
Midnight arrived with its cape of black,
A drooping Lenny decides to hit the sack.
Soon he slips into restless dreams,
His brain is coming apart at the seams.
The next day, he awakens with the dawn,
He slowly arises from his bed with a yawn,
And remembering the troubling riddle,
He decides to consider it a little.
Many say the morning brings new realisation,
And of this the Lenny had a new appreciation,
As he discovered there was one simple thing to say,
For the question went this way:
To Lennies from far and near,
What is the happiest day of the year?
Caught up in figuring the puzzle out,
He didn't realise it was Lenny Day, without a doubt!
Domain of the Mutant Lenny
Where sunlight sears a thirsty ground
That only dreams of rain,
Here the mutant Lenny sits,
Surveying his domain.
He perches on a rocky spike,
High above the sand,
His rangy form poised like a king,
Possessive of his land.
He's angular and stringy-tough,
With mottled wings of brown,
But somewhere in his flinty build,
Beauty can be found.
Subtle, yet unwavering,
Its nature dignified,
His beauty lies within his strength,
Intensity, and pride.
A crooked smile etched across
His hooked and wicked beak,
His keen eye cast toward the ground,
Observing from his peak.
This place, where nature still exists
Primal, base, and wild --
This is his kingdom; he remains
The Legendary Faerie Lenny
I never thought I would see a legend,
But legend I saw in the breezy heights of Faerieland.
It emerged among the clouds
Wings spread wide and neck arched high,
The darkened part of the rainbow spectrum,
Sleek lengths of purple, blue, green in
Sweeping feathers of the loveliest sheens.
Regality in every inch.
Deep-set, highly intelligent eyes
Knew my every move.
From the skinny-legged, gangly birth
To peacock beauty.
It quite stole my breath away.
It soon was gone, merging into the clouds,
Too majestic, too legendary,
For my mortal eyes.
I never saw it again --
So maybe it was a trick of the eyes.
But as my mind remembers it,
It was the faerie Lenny,
A legend in Neopia.
The Red Lenny
How calm is the lake today
(how sweet the air,
a flowery fragrance) not
a ripple in sight, why
they must be hiding
(lurking in those lilies)
Now he (the fiery one)
approaches this calm
lake, treading its tranquil waters
(of palest blue) and urging those
lazy ripples across its
See how he stands, tall and proud
(but never arrogant) on legs
built for wading waters
too shallow to swim
And note the intelligence in
those keen eyes, the way he reads
everything around him just like
A calm lake, too calm
too shallow to contain
this Lenny (fiery red fire red)
powder blue surface erupts
and scarlet form emerges
his wings built for skies, just
high enough to reach
The Last Lenny Standing
The Lenny is an intelligent pet,
so hurry up and do not fret.
The best Lenny convention is here today,
that will require everything they know to play.
The rules are simple and easy to follow,
answer the question and then you move on.
If you get the question wrong, we are sorry,
you are disqualified, now go to study.
The best Lennies are put to the test,
but only one is better than the rest.
The first round flies by,
and thirty Lennies are disqualified.
Twenty remain, everything at stake,
all the worries of making a mistake.
The second round flies by,
leaving all but five.
Testing only the best of the best,
some leave due to the stress.
Two are remaining, both very wise,
but who will lose, and who win grand prize?
The question is asked, and there is a struggle,
and the answer was a very complex puzzle.
Finally, a winner is pronounced,
all very curious and why had gotten out.
"The winner is clear, and same as last year,
he is the smartest, so let's give him a cheer.
Congratulations to the Lenny Conundrum leader,
the winner of this and last year."
The Faerie Lenny's Flight
Dark, black night encases the sky.
Tonight, Kreludor proudly shines high.
The breeze blows, silent in the night.
Leaves gently fly in the bright moonlight.
Quiet then disappears suddenly
As a flash of colour comes from a Lenny.
With wings outstretched, and eyes set straight,
The faerie Lenny flies at a very fast rate.
Tail feathers stretched out, feeling the wind,
The faerie Lenny loves it and gives a big grin.
Shades of purple, blue, and also some green,
This Neopet is surely a sight to be seen.
Finally the graceful pet lands in his tree,
Muscles relaxed and feathers laid flatly.
Wings no longer tensed, but still and strong.
Tonight, no more beating of wings'll beat for long.
I Am Lightning Lenny
I wonder what you thought,
that day looking at me --
I am a star, and you,
just so plain.
I know what they say,
and I know it's all true,
that I'm better than you.
in a name;
how quickly good
turns into glamour.
save Sakhmet and next thing you know,
anonymity is lost.
to be someone,
but I got lost
along the way.
at first it all hurt, scorn and betrayal,
since I could never live up;
how can a Lenny compete?
shields can be made,
and weakness overcome;
i am who i am,
but who are you?
Lenny Meringue Pie
Pastry crust, perfectly cooked,
The filling pink and yellow,
One bite and then you're hooked,
To the lemon meringue taste, so mellow.
This pie baked specially for a day,
Of Lenny celebration
And so was moulded in such a way,
It looks like a Lenny-shaped decoration.
The lemon goodness is melt-in-mouth,
The pastry crumbles wonderfully,
A better pie could not be found,
This Lenny one is lovely!
The Lenny Librarian
He sits in a room all filled up with books,
Through wire-rimmed spectacles at them he looks.
His table is propped on a three-inch flat stone,
And under a mountain of papers does groan.
He's a very nice Lenny, intelligent too,
Take a guess at his name, why don't you?
His army of Meepit plushies are stored
In a box in the Archives behind some closed doors.
Perhaps he'll be able to find them one day,
But he's still got his favourite one, so it's OK.
An Archivist, Plushie Collector, what next?
I know who he is, can you take a guess?
His nephew is rather well known as well,
With puzzles and numbers his head does swell.
The Lenny Conundrum wizard is he,
As smart as his uncle he aspires to be.
But as to that most revered relative,
I think that by now his name you can give?
In the Altador Plot he was rather important.
When a certain dark faerie made history discordant,
Our dear Lenny friend helped to save the day,
And now things are back to their usual way.
A hero in Altador, his praises are lauded,
His identity now can not be much clouded?
Those last two lines only rhyme mispronounced,
But I doubt the next four will surprise you an ounce,
For it was clear from the start
(And confirmed in the very next part)
That the one in question can no other be,
Than our dear Mr. Finneus of the library!
The Lenny Curator
Oh, Lenny Curator, so very bright,
Keeper of tomes and informative text.
Knower of all, from Moquot to knight,
A silent reader, who journeys unvexed.
Perhaps he dreams of no better respite,
Than to peruse from one book into the next.
Adjusting round spectacles, flexing feathers,
The mutant Lenny lights a lone candle.
He enters the museum, past marble pillars,
(Those have seen their fair share of vandal...)
Past the desks overflowing with letters,
And reaches a shelf -- a book he does fondle.
The Lenny Curator smiles and reads;
His wing tips whisper over the pages.
A hungry mind his eye now feeds,
Replenishing with words and good phrases.
All the while his eyes glint like beads,
Looking out for suspicious faces.
It is his job to keep an eye on the books,
The Tyrannian museum has a vast hoard.
Hard though the task seemingly looks,
To keep their count and to calmly record,
The Curator enjoys his watch of the nooks,
His permission to read is greatly adored.
So if you have a question about the world,
Though Tyrannia is his specialty,
Feel free to ask him, curiosity unfurled,
For the Lenny answers everything amiably.
The Lenny Sorcerer
Once there was an old sorcerer Lenny
Who was a few years less than one hundred-twenty.
He had bushy eyebrows and a long grey beard
And was considered by all to be a bit weird.
Maybe because he was purple,
But most likely he was shunned for his musty clothes
Or perhaps because of the company he chose.
He spent his days with his books all alone.
As a result, he was relatively unknown
To those who lived in his city.
Lennies in general do not have many friends,
Which is something the sorcerer wanted to amend.
It made the old sorcerer very upset
That Lennies were unpopular Neopets.
So he started to plan a new concoction.
He took out a musty book and started to read
About all the materials he would need.
He took out his wand and a large pot
And rummaged around quite a lot
As he struggled to find a spoon.
First he dumped in Clamade and stirred it twice.
Then he cut up a Fish Pop and put in one slice.
At last, he put in a Lenny feather
And mixed the ingredients all together.
He mumbled and waved his wand.
Something went wrong! He was more popular
Because of his brew,
But he had become a purple Blumaroo!
Suddenly, with a resounding crack,
The sorcerer used his wand and turned himself back.
For he was happiest as a Lenny.
O Swift Lenny!
O swift Lenny,
I often ponder upon thy magic speed
For if this brilliance cease,
Thou could not be the magic breed
With a coat of immaculate fleece.
How your wonders remain a conundrum!
O swift Lenny, how you touch the sky!
May you spread your wings in everlasting glory,
For you will never forget how to fly.
Generations to come will always know your story,
How you wonders remain a conundrum!
O swift Lenny, with talons of might,
Beak sharper than a thousand swords,
Thou will never give up a fight!
Even when thou know of no reward,
How your wonders remain a conundrum!
My dear Lenny, today is your day,
A day to celebrate your rarity,
For if not for you, our journey is astray.
O swift Lenny, how your boundaries are endless;
Never forget your possibilities are limitless!
From the Egg
Of the lovely Lennies I have known --
Whether baby chicks or older grown--
The majority are of insight keen;
Brilliance must be innate to their breed.
The Lenny Conundrum Wizard runs
A weekly puzzle just for fun,
But the answers, which to him seem plain,
Leave the rest of us with weary brains.
The wizened Lenny named Finneus
Is the Altador Records Archivist,
Keeping the files of science and history
With a method shrouded in mystery.
A mutant Lenny Curator serves
In the Tyrannian Museum to preserve
That land's accounts of yesteryear,
His keenness cloaked in dull exterior.
The Lenny Sorcerer in robes bedecked
Has spent a lifetime in learning's quest
Seeking a wisdom more arcane;
The esoteric is his domain.
Wherever a teacher or steward is required,
A learned Lenny ought to be hired.
From the egg it's eggheads they're meant to be,
Not a birdbrain found in this species!
A soft wing beat fans apart
The clouds piled up above Altador's shore,
And beats sunset into
Brief flecks of fire.
And a plumage iridescent draws its tranquil hues
From the woodland below, green and deep,
Just as the sky, darkening now,
Makes a pensive mirror of the sea.
And waterfalls tumble down Altador's cliffs
Like gifts to the calling ocean, and fall
In singing cascades,
Heard far-off and shining in light --
He sings of how the sun has sunk sea-deep,
One gleaming red ribbon at a time,
And soon between stars and moon he flies,
Calling night down from Neopia's skies.
Wheeler Rides Again!
Pedal hard, my Lenny friend,
On twin wheels shall you glide.
Up and down, one thing's for sure,
This is one wild ride!
Wheeler, time is running out,
The chef won't sit and wait.
So gather up those coconuts,
Before it's much too late!
Across the hills to edge of cliff,
Feathers the handles grip.
Where terrain lifts he'll hold on tight,
Lest wheel should bump or slip.
Satchel latched to Lenny's bike,
His cargo safe inside.
Ensuring nothing can be lost,
On Wheeler's wild ride.
The chef is waiting, fury grows,
Lest Lenny takes a spill.
But Wheeler's used to rough terrain,
And navigates with skill.
The Lenny's gaze is steely now,
He rides uneven ground.
Content and still with hope, you see,
As long as wheels spin round.
Total Poetry Pages : 1961
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