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Until Next Year, Altador Cup!
The last goal has been scored,
The last foul has been called,
The last slushie has been slung,
And the last fans have been stalled.
All eyes are on the field
As the winners strut out,
Beams on their faces:
Not a single pout.
The Lost Desert crew accepts the gold gratefully,
While runner-up Kreludor waves to cheering crowd,
Darigan Citadel wishes they could have done better,
But even they are a little bit proud.
The fans scream wildly,
Jumping in their seats and stamping feet,
And even the other teams nod graciously,
Righteous and accepting of their defeat.
And so another good year of the Cup has passed,
And as the teams bask one last time in the cheer,
We all smile and aren't quite so sad,
Because the Altador Cup will be back next year!
And the DESSERTS TAKE THE CUP
They walk the walk of honour
on the glassware plate that sends
their own flour-stained (nevertheless
beaming) faces back toward the
circular edges; round once,
round twice, and a march to
the centre takes the Lost Desserts
up to the very highest of
side-by-side sugar cubes.
Layton's there, and Derlyn's there;
but it is Leera Heggle --
Kau Kau cream puff --
O Captain of the Desserts --
who raises the Cup,
that beacon to the eastern
sands, the pearl of pearls
that fade years
of yearning, years of
grit, evanescent --
-- Now back to the present,
you are not cream puffs
nor Draik Cakes, but
a Desert, golden dunes
united where the pyramid pinnacles
meet the westbound sun,
and indeed I would not dare
to deem your Captain a
dessert puff on any day
that of his victory.
And after all the bakery jokes,
the message is one and the same:
Altador Cup Tribute Finale
The tiny Yooyu rose from the centre,
Leaping high into a ball,
Suspended for a wild moment,
Then slowly, faster, began to fall.
Dripping sweat, screaming fans,
Shouting out in joy and fear,
Eyes all moving in unison,
Watching the action draw far and near.
Both teams dashing back and forth,
Never pausing to take a rest,
Exhilarated by this final moment,
To put their strengths down to the test.
One goal scored! The fans explode,
Groans and cheers burst out loud,
Deafening noise is everywhere,
The massive wave of the Neopian crowd.
A goal made by the opposite side!
A point now bringing them neck and neck,
The seconds slowly ticking off,
The audience now becoming a wreck.
*Five* A player grabs the Yooyu,
Charges madly for the goal,
*Four* Is taken by the enemy,
Who skids around and does a roll.
*Three* He drops the ball while leaping high,
It bounces into the other's hands,
*Two* They sprint back to other side,
Oblivious to the crowd's demands.
*One* He shoots, time has stopped,
The Yooyu soaring slowly straight,
It slips right through the goalie's hands!
And not a second too late!
TWEET! The ref blows his whistle
Marking the end of the game,
Fans are crying, hugging their friends,
Knowing no two Cup matches will ever be the same.
Lost Desert Takes the Cup
The results are in really soon,
who will win, the desert or moon?
Kreludor is a very good team,
but can it match the Lost Desert heat?
As the whole crowd waits in silence,
out is carried the first-place chalice.
It gleams with some kind of team colours,
but it is also completely covered.
A few more seconds, then we know,
that will make some cheer, and others woe.
The stand is revealed, and it clearly shows
that the Lost Desert has won them over.
The crowd cheers, and Leera holds it high,
and next year will be another surprise.
Darigan takes all (we will)
we are Darigan,
we've come too far,
lost too many times
to lose again;
tasted glory but once
in the past,
and how many summers
we have yearned
so this year
we turn our backs
on years of defeat
and bitter humiliation;
we've clawed our way
to the top once more,
because we are
our time is now,
this is our year --
a year to put up a fight,
a year to end the drought;
appease the fire,
stoke the embers of
we are your comeback
of the year.
Total Poetry Pages : 1984
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