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XWEETOK DAY SPECIAL
Xweetok of the Rainbow
Within the shade of emerald green,
Each bough a tawny hue.
A woodland realm, a secret place,
Beneath the crystal blue.
There amongst the natural tones,
A shimmer does dart fast.
Rainbow tones, a creature bright,
A flash as it runs past.
Closer glimpse doth soon reveal,
A creature, rainbow sheen.
A spectrum bright, in vivid streaks,
So clearly now is seen.
Xweetok smile, coy at first,
As creature perches high.
A vivid rainbow, emerald gaze,
Fixated on the sky.
She watches clouds that twist and drift,
A smile soft doth play.
Sunlight streaks through canopy,
Its golden beams do stray.
They find the vivid, brilliant coat,
And shimmer on each strand.
The beauty of this vision small,
More than most pets could stand.
Like prisms do the sunbeams gleam,
They transform green to jade.
Red to rose, a coral pink,
The violet soft doth fade.
The silken velvet creature stands,
And to the woodlands flees.
A vision of a rainbow bright,
Soon lost amongst the trees.
My Mutant Xweetok Pull Along
I think there must be something wrong
With my Mutant Xweetok Pull Along,
For every time I turn my back,
I hear a kind of cackling laugh.
Shivers wriggle up my spine,
I spin around in time to find --
A lifeless toy, and nothing more,
Exactly as they sell in stores.
I pick the toy up in my hands
To investigate, to understand
Just what it is that makes that... sound
Every time I turn around.
I peer into its jaundiced eyes,
Trying to spy deep inside.
I give the plaything a mighty shake
Until I fear it just might break.
And yet I cannot make it cackle,
Nor even cause its wheels to rattle.
It simply stares with toothy grin
While its rodent tail whips in the wind.
I place it back onto the ground --
It emits not a whit of sound --
And with a hand fearful and trembling
Reach out for its coiled string.
I take a breath and turn away,
No sooner turned than to my dismay,
A sinister snicker splits the air
And gives to me a massive scare.
I wish that I could say so long
To my Mutant Xweetok Pull Along.
But I fear that if I turn and run
That laugh will trail me to my home!
Standing in the pool,
Colours swirl around me,
Like a molten rainbow,
Lapping at my fur.
Excited owner hands me brush,
Her fingers tapping,
My tail twitching,
We have waited so long.
Grasp the brush firmly,
Looking longingly at the wings
Attached to the bristles,
The soft, pink colour.
I pull the brush across my arm,
Colour spills over my fur,
Changing blue to green,
And travels like water along me.
Now quivering antennae exist,
Where once was void,
I flex my wings happily,
And the magic work is done.
I am a faerie Xweetok now,
As I step from the pool
And launch myself into the air --
With a shout I take to the wing.
Lilian the Tenacious Xweetok
Walking in her father's footsteps,
a girl into botany
she ventured with her father
to an undiscovered island
(along with their assistant
and Roxton A. Colchester
their boat crashed
upon the rocks,
nearly losing them
Would Lilian quiver?
No, of course not.
She would nuzzle her paw,
wipe the dirt off of her nose,
and look upon the world
She would not give up;
she would not give up.
Even if all she brought back
was a fruit.
Grooming her soft fur,
the tenacious Xweetok.
November Twenty Ninth
Xweetok, oh Xweetok, this is your day.
I've travelled long, I've travelled far
simply waiting to say
that today, just today, you are a star.
I swam to Maraqua, speaking with Bubblebees.
I ran through Altador, chatting with Altachucks.
Everyone agreed, through their expertise
that this day, this special day, will bring you luck.
Your hair will shine brighter than ever,
your eyes will twinkle with a new spark,
Cap'n Threelegs will help you be more clever
so that in the Battledome you can make your mark.
Indeed, the Techo Master will welcome you
and share his sought-after wisdom,
and the Rainbow Pool might shimmer too,
then who knows what you might become.
Xweetok, oh Xweetok, how special you are.
The twenty ninth of November is yours
to remember that today, just today, you are a star.
Run off to increase those Battledome scores!
I will sit on Terror Mountain, resting a bit
remembering my favourite pet.
Of course all Neopets are special, I know it --
But it is Xweetoks I always long to get.
In November the leaves will keep falling
and through the gathered piles you will play.
Your mane blends with fiery colours sprawling,
This crisp air with bonfire scent could be every day.
But Xweetok, oh Xweetok, this is your day.
I've travelled this far simply to say
I think we will be friends lifelong,
for running in Neopia next to you is where I belong.
TAG! You're it! Now please join my game
of tag and at the same time, I'll explain
why the Xweetok breed is among the best
and all other pets are just the rest!
Xweetoks are quite an adventurous bunch,
we love to play and our jokes pack a punch.
We enjoy climbing trees high and tall,
and as for food... why, we like it all!
I am but a Xweetok so perhaps I am biased,
but there's no pet who can compare, honest!
We're loyal and to our friends we are true,
and we're giving and jolly and merry too.
Personally, I'd suggest that you adopt one
of us from the Pound and give a warm home
to a pet more deserving than any and all.
Here's to Xweetoks, may our breed never fall!
A Xweetok Day Wish
Oh TNT, perhaps on this day,
You'll give us a new colour so cool.
Xweetoks can be baby or fire or ice,
But they're still missing a colour at the Pool.
They're missing the colour that has big teeth,
As well as horns and spikes and fur.
Xweetoks still miss that Tyrannian colour,
Which seems like it'd be awesome for sure!
Will they be even more fuzzy?
Or have abnormally giant teeth?
Hopefully this Xweetok Day this colour will appear.
Though maybe not quite like a Skeith.
Regrets (To Palia Alback)
We never remember who she was,
And no one remembers what she does,
But even though she left so long ago,
She still deserves a bit of renown,
After just a single sports year,
She left the team and friends so dear,
She said her goodbyes, waved them farewell,
What she would be doing, she refused to tell.
"Goodbye, Delma, good luck, so long!"
But had she decided entirely wrong?
She left all she knew, departing the team,
Without the regrets, or so it seemed.
These days, she's living her life at ease,
The style she wants, the way she please,
But does she feel bad for leaving so fast?
Is there a part that mourns her past?
As for that, we likely will never know,
She will not say, her actions don't show,
All we can do is wonder and wait,
To see this Xweetok's impending fate.
The Plushie Xweetok
Resting close, by the fireplace,
A basket of blue and green.
There are blue buttons, yes,
And a mass of tangled green strings,
Patches of spectral blue.
You shake your head. How silly!
You had left your knitting basket
So close to the hungry flames.
Rise to your feet, need to rescue your needlework...
When a small spark, a flying ember,
Sails into your basket,
Your very fear.
Before you can act, though,
A single paw, patchy blue, rises,
And with a casual flick
Sends the spark right back!
Agape, you rush to your sentient basket,
Only to find, why,
The newest addition to the family!
The Xweetok you had adopted,
But now in plushie form!
The Mutant Xweetok
With unsightly, protuberant eyes,
The mutant Xweetok is no beauty queen:
Her ears are tattered and ruffled;
Her body disproportionately lean.
Her hair is fluffy and untameable,
And her teeth yellow and crooked too,
Her skin is scaly and her fur sparse,
And such a unusual shade of blue.
The pupils are slightly unfocused,
Her tail ratty and without a single hair:
Overall quite a frightening beast,
Like something from a bad nightmare.
Often rather hard to befriend,
And with that unattractive face,
You'd think I'd detest this creature,
But this is not the case.
Because there's something endearing about her,
And for that, for her I'll root,
For no, the mutant Xweetok is no beauty,
But in her own way, she's impossibly cute!
Day Dreaming Xweetok Gnome
While gazing at the sunshine it lies,
With hope and desire in its eyes,
The Day Dreaming Xweetok Gnome
Is positioned outside of my home.
All who pass may then deem
themselves worthy of partaking
in a day dream.
But is wishful thinking ever enough,
Filling its mind with senseless stuff,
And as it grows older and older,
With a beard grown past its shoulder
Remains at the foot of my garden,
And its heart to reality will harden.
I do admire this Xweetok, however,
Always a smile fixed onto it forever,
Conveying a message to all who come,
"In dreaming you shall never be glum."
here the forest is thick
and the wind is magic;
here the birch branches
shine silver, and here
the canopy filters, fractures
and scatters the sun,
those brilliant shards
falling among the leaves --
untouched by winter.
such is the shine in your eyes;
here the wind never blows cold,
and the trees know not
of frost or snow;
here each ray of light,
every drop of dew
you draw the faerie circles
after the rain,
you sing the music
that brings the morn.
here the forest is thick,
and its guardian magic --
in iridescent blue.
Xweetoks scurry around the trees,
Dropping down to fall on their knees.
As the wind does howl on this fateful day,
And every Xweetok can have their say.
Their homes reside in the branches and logs,
But their passions involve running round in fogs.
Oh, how fabulous these creatures are,
It's no doubt today that they are the star!
Clambering onto branches near,
They jump across them without fear.
Dashing across, sliding and jumping,
Makes you and their heart go thumping.
Making things look so easy to the eye,
All you can say is 'Wow, that looks.. oh my!'
So cunning and quick, fast and slick,
Things are easily done in a tick.
They love to chase anything they see,
Including you, your friend, or even me.
Off on the run, galloping at full speed,
Until you feel your legs begin to take heed.
For Xweetoks are fast and full of beans,
And by this, you should give in, by all means!
For it's the day of the Xweetok today,
So don't forget to let them have their own way!
The Xweetok's Mirror
Smearing lipstick on her mouth,
Dabbing shadow on her eyes,
Keeping her gaze on the mirror,
That stands in front of the Xweetok.
Tugging at her burgundy hair,
With a yellow, glittery comb,
She takes a look at her reflection,
And makes a little frown.
The Xweetok wipes off her face,
And throws her comb away,
Because staring at her in the mirror,
Is a champion perfect the way she is.
Total Poetry Pages : 1971
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