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SYMOL DAY SPECIAL
journeying his journey.
They say beneath ground is
a place dark indeed, damp and too
far from warmth and
rough and rocky -- but this
coat keeps him
digging without shivering, fur the
tenor of a patch of
loam just sun-warmed;
and his claws are
and his ears do twitch at
But here, one without light is
one without sight,
no matter the skill or
coat from chill --
but light is this Symol,
and he is light;
the star-patterns mark him out
as do the moon-bright eyes,
and here, deep below,
he is a light of his own --
Finding the Symol Hole
I took a walk in Meridell one day;
My Petpet was with me, and I suddenly said, "Hey!
Watch out for the hole here in the ground.
You don't want to fall, let's go around!"
I said, "This is a mystery, indeed.
I would go in, but I wouldn't succeed.
I'm not as small as you." Looking at the hollow,
My Petpet was clever but obviously didn't follow.
I asked my Petpet to climb down ever so slowly.
He looked at me weirdly but trusted me wholly.
He climbed down, eyes on alert.
I waited above, hoping he'd be unhurt.
I waited and waited, hoping for a sign.
Finally he came up and looked to be fine.
I was so relieved and I asked,
"What did you see down there, was it dark?"
Then I saw what I had not noticed before:
A shy little fellow, so scared, so small
He didn't make a sound, no, nothing at all.
But I knew at once, this one I adore.
I said to my Petpet, "Please take him back home;
He will get lots of food, toys, and a nice comb."
This was done and days went by,
More often than not, I would hear him cry.
I felt bad, trying to find out what's wrong.
My wise Petpet showed me he did not belong.
With a sinking heart I knew he was right,
For our new friend did not like the light.
I went back to the place where we not long ago
Had found our new friend digging his hole.
I put him back in and said goodbye.
He smiled, was soon gone, and I asked myself why.
Why did I take him from his home, I wonder?
Just because he's cute, I made a blunder.
A little fellow like this loves his hole --
The bright light above is clearly not for a Symol.
Grey Symols of the Wailing Tunnels
Deep beneath the Petpet Park
The Wailing Tunnels may be found.
Their walls reverberate with a haunting,
Plaintive, and heartbreaking sound.
Whose cries ring out within the soil
Beneath the spooky Mausoleum?
They belong to a group of limp, grey Symols
Hiding where no one can see them.
So disheartened, down, and listless,
Grey ears drooped like wilted stems.
Eyes are blue, downcast, and glassy,
Glazed with the tears that fall from them.
Dejected are these depressed Petpets,
Huddled in their misery.
No discourse distracts them from their sadness,
No comfort derived from their company.
Alone amongst their Symol brethren,
This pack of greys decline to mine.
They have no interest in gold or gemstones
They only slump, whimper, and whine.
Other Petpets, when they're saddened,
Howl and wail and call for rescue,
But not these Symols, they like crying,
Relief is the thing they most eschew.
For the Love of Symols
Burrow, burrow, down underground we go,
I think I have found a Symol hole!
Let us examine this so that we might
bring this mysterious Petpet to life.
The Symol is brown with a pointed nose,
and I think that perhaps every Neopian knows
that they live their life underground
in their burrows, safe and sound.
I myself met a Symol a few days back
in Meridell after visiting the ol' Turmac.
He seemed rather skittish, I dare say,
but indeed seemed pretty willing to play.
He spoke only in squeaks, and with his paw
showed me around Meridell, and this I saw:
there were Symol holes all around, and yet,
you won't believe what happened next!
Why, the Symol invited me down to play,
into his underground home and let me stay
a while. Therefore I must clearly say
they are my favourite Petpet to this day!
The Symols' Hole
Digging soil, earth, and stone,
Burrow together or all alone,
Scraping past the long tree roots,
Deep below the grassy shoots.
Nimble fingers grasp and snatch,
Shale-blue claws part and scratch,
Gnarled tendrils sliced in twain,
The earthy path: through flesh a vein.
Each deep hole is carved with care,
Some for storage, some for air,
With little Symols scuttling through,
A body of strength: the digging crew.
All work as parts of one -- the whole,
To lengthen and stretch their homely hole,
Till under the earth splays a web,
Always to spread, never to ebb.
The network of tunnels, never to fade,
Never to crumble, under the glade.
Gwyl's Great Escape
With a helmet and his trusty shovel,
This Symol is no pushover.
There are jewels to be discovered,
And diamonds to be uncovered.
Gwyl the Symol will persevere,
Even when a rockslide appears.
With a Lightmite to help him steer,
Gwyl would show no fear.
Despite his size,
He would most definitely arise.
Accompanied by allies,
Triumph follows Gwyl, who is both brave and wise.
Dodging spikes and stalactites,
Gwyl uses his balloon to take flight.
Unearthing gems which are glittery and bright,
He has to survive this plight.
Will Gwyl ever escape the clutches of the mine,
Or will he be stuck there to whine?
Let's hope that Gwyl will be just fine,
And not left away to pine.
Is soft and furry
with curious black eyes
that weep tiny tears,
and delicate pricked ears.
has a wet black nose
wiggling in anticipation
and tiny digging claws
attached to slender paws.
is a little chubby
with a round fat tummy
bulging with nuts and seeds
intent to fulfill natural needs.
greets me every morning
to let me know the sun has come
by squeaking shrilly
bright and early.
was not to be found today
and when I woke in fear
I looked about the room
and was soon given over to gloom.
I fear, has left me
and in doing so has
of my dearest companion.
A Warning About Symols
On this day of celebration
Of a Petpet so cute and sweet,
Let me remind you also,
How irritating this little Petpet can be.
Symols burrow into places
That a Symol shouldn't be,
A mysterious hole appears in your garden?
Now how sweet is he?
Just take a trip to Meridell,
And squint into that deep, dark hole,
And maybe you will think again,
Of getting a Symol to be your pet's best friend.
A Symol Takeover
Down beneath the plains,
the Symols are mining crystal grains.
They've waited all year for this date,
so they may bend Meridell's fate.
Using the gems of power,
the lead Symol makes King Hagan cower.
As they take over the fields,
they eat the fruit the farms yield.
The lead Symol claims the land,
for the Symol's crystal stand.
As they sell their magic jewels,
the heat of the day cools.
In a single line,
the march down in time.
Some are chanting to a song,
others are taking much too long.
'Tis the end of Symol Day,
and they must be painted grey.
Underground they go again,
until Meridell is theirs to bend.
By Carrotbreath and Umbreon133
Today is the day, today is finally the day!
We will see the Symol and no longer be grey.
Three years and two months of waiting done,
Three years and two months of having no fun,
But today we'll see the Symol emerge,
And in joy and delight we'll splurge.
"Why has it been so long?" you may ask.
Well, spotting the Symol is a tedious task.
We sit and we wait until it comes leaping.
When it finally does, we're soundly sleeping.
But this year will be different, yes, sir, it will,
We'll stay awake and our dream fulfill!
You may then ask about our plan,
It's simple, doable by any Symol fan.
We'll wait quietly in our Symol Sleeping Bag,
NOT munching on a Symol Dirt Pie, what a gag!
Just playing with our Symol Bouncy Ball,
Sure not to miss it, even though it's so small.
And then we'll see it,
We'll see it,
We'll see it.
We Will Jump No More Holes
Every morning down your hole
We jump to no avail.
Though still our owners hope in vain
That some day we'll prevail.
As our nature doth suggest,
We're but few inches tall.
Your hole is deep inside the ground --
To us, it's quite the fall!
The ground we find never gives;
We hit it hard and fast.
Our paws, they ache with bruises black,
Which very often last.
Why must avatars be so cruel
To creatures small and slight?
Although our voices are but low,
We've had it with this plight.
Hear ye this, all owners fair:
We've made our last attempt!
And should you wish us down again,
You'll find us quite unkempt.
Your items will be thrown askew
From every rubbish can.
We'll wake you from your daily nap
By spitting on your hand.
Milk will tip from every glass
When we find it filled.
We'll rip your drapes and linen sheets
And dig through gardens tilled.
We will jump down no more holes,
We've finally found our end.
So push and shove and beg and plead,
We simply will not bend.
We will jump down no more holes,
We'll hide out in the shed.
Should you have but one complaint,
Ta, you can jump instead!
A Symol Day
Down beneath the wet-packed earth
The Symol doth roam,
Burrowing deep into the heart
Of his merry home.
A cup of tea doth steam,
Sitting on his desk.
The Symol holds a tight routine,
Rarely taking a rest.
He begins in the morning-time
As he wakes from sleep.
Scrubbing tooth with twine,
Out of bed he doth leap.
In the afternoon,
He eats his porridge cold.
Stirring it with a spoon,
He thinks himself quite bold.
As the sun goes down,
He picks up his pipe,
On his face a frown,
The day no longer ripe.
Before bed he scrubs his face,
He cleans his shoes with utmost grace
As he nods to sleep he watches the cool moon's face.
Down the Symol Hole!
it had been a most curious
afternoon. a trip
to Meridell's farms,
then a tumble down
the fabled Symol hole;
and such a dizzying tumble
at that! why, if only
the other Petpets
could see her now.
they'd never believe it,
she supposed! --
but of course if it were her,
she'd doubt such a fantastic tale
as well. a Symol hole, indeed! --
wondering just how she came to be
in this strangest of strange predicaments.
was she to fall forever?
no, no, she chastised herself --
Neopia was round after all,
and at the very worst
she'd be dropped off at Shenkuu --
Shenkuu! oh dear, how very far
from home she was! --
a Snowbunny in the wrong tunnel,
the wrongest of tunnels!
how was she to get back
and tell them the tale?
she hoped they'd still be
waiting for her, up there,
but what was the use,
she wondered, of waiting up
when she was falling down?
oh dear, oh dear! down
she'd fall! --
she fell, the tunnel blurring
before her eyes, her nose
twitching with distress --
but, of course,
she woke up,
and for a fleeting second
if she were not in Shenkuu.
Symol in a Box!
Round and round you start to wind,
What could be in this bizarre box?
A secret no-one knows!
The colours give you little hint,
A neutral brown and green.
But how it makes you need to wind,
And view what must be seen!
A merry tune plays as you wind,
One you have heard before.
Lyrics tell of digging deep,
For what? You're just not sure!
If you could recall all the song,
You would have such a hint!
Instead you turn the lever 'round,
The box doth gleam and glint!
You gained this box, a gift today,
From pet that you do own.
"It is a hint of what I want!"
(A hint? He long did drone!)
What could it be? The tune hums on,
Your memory builds up big!
Don't the lyrics go 'La, La,
We burrow, tunnel dig?'
If that won't tell you, nothing will,
You won't believe your eyes!
For with the last turn, round it goes,
You get a huge surprise!
A tiny Symol springing forth,
He bounces at you, BOO!
It seems they DO live underground,
But in toy boxes too!
The Symol and the Thorn
What could that sound possibly be?
Rumble, rumble, rumble, it goes,
The ground is shaking beneath me.
Flowers topple and their petals fall.
I know you're down there,
but I see nothing at all.
The soil moves, a rich shade of brown.
My observations persist,
But you're nowhere to be found!
I look to the distance and spot a hole,
From it, a creature emerges -- whoa!
Sharp black claws and a button nose,
Bushy little brows and a coat of wool.
I know, I know!
This critter must be a Symol.
It turns its body to look at me,
Its big black eyes, so very beady!
It tilts its head up and looks to the sky,
when out from its mouth comes a very soft cry.
I walk over to investigate,
Wondering what's the matter.
I kneel beside the Symol,
when its eyes start to spatter.
Distraught, it seems, it lifts its arm to hide,
When all of a sudden I notice a thorn in his side.
To show I mean no harm
I hold out my hand and
Motion for it to come close.
The Symol understands my actions,
and timidly crawls up my arm.
I bring my hand close to its fur,
Briefly warning "This might pinch,"
And with breakneck movement, the thorn I cinch.
I twist and turn,
As I pull out the thorn,
The Symol squeaks softly,
I offer my companionship,
Gesturing that we should go.
The Symol jumps off my arm,
To this day I will never forget
That adorable creature I helped.
A Symol, it was
From the land of Meridell!
Total Poetry Pages : 2009
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