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A Plea from Brynn
Hanso, please stop! Now more than ever
I need you to help -- you're resourceful and clever.
Together the two of us can stand against evil;
We would conquer Xandra, and all that is lethal.
But where, pray tell, is the trustworthy thief
Who seemed a promising hero at first?
Where is the maker of mischief
Who fought to undo the faeries' curse?
I must admit, I trusted you not
On the day that we first met,
A thieving rascal, a simple lad,
And now the world in is your debt.
You led us to the Castle Nox
And led us out again.
You helped escape the spectres' cave
Despite Xandra's disdain.
Yet, now you threaten to betray
The ones we'd worked to save.
Where are your instincts, Hanso?
You're already good and brave!
I urge you to reconsider, before it is too late.
Step away, Hanso, from that tempting handshake
Trust your heart, please; Neopia depends
On you; the future now rests in your hands.
Stocking Stufftacular Saga!
My pets and I had made a pact
To celebrate this year.
We would have fun, no matter what,
In season bright with cheer.
Excited did we wander forth
To NC Mall's bright door.
There with eyes so wide we stood,
Then rushed in to explore.
No need to search, we found the thing!
A pack of stockings bright.
Twenty-five in all, you see,
So one to hang each night.
So pretty were these treasured things,
We rushed home right away.
And hung each stocking then and there,
On that exciting day!
They say good things do always come
To those who wish to wait.
But we could barely just sit still
Until that magic date
When stockings would begin to fill,
And gifts galore would be.
What treasures would we find within?
How could we wait and see?
So when the magic eve did fall,
We stumbled off to sleep.
Then rather early, rather dark,
Downstairs we all did creep.
My pets and I did give a cry
At gifts that we were shown.
What did we get? Don't just ask us!
Go out and get your own!
Maractite Paint Brush
Beautiful, elusive, and desired,
The Maractite Paint Brush is all three.
Quite an expensive brush too;
Such a pretty thing could not be free.
The brush itself is handsome;
The handle intricate and polished,
A wonderful addition to any collector,
More lovely than I could have ever wished.
The Maractite colour is doubtlessly
A rich and powerful hue,
As teal as the seas of Neopia,
And as admirably pretty too.
The fainter swirls in the paint
Are of a lighter shade and so fine;
They provide a contrast of colour
And what a beautiful design!
And while the Usul is the only Maractite pet,
She really is quite a belle,
So I don't find myself the least bit foolish,
In thinking the future Maractite pets will be swell!
"I dare you," says the Blumaroo
(Known as Aristotle A. Avinroo).
"Yeah, I dare you to challenge me,
For I am the Games Master, naturally.
"You might say I've thrown the gauntlet down,
You have the chance to win my crown,
But I doubt that you can top my skills
Or my IQ (which is immeasurable).
"It's my challenge, so my rules,
And this time I'm going old school.
I'm basing it on some classic games,
But I'm not telling you their names.
"Some challenges are secret, some are themed,
Some are random, and all extreme.
You think that you're as good as me?
Take my dare and we will see.
"If you want to chat, I'll be over there,
In my super cool hover chair,
Probably retaping my gaming specs
Or fiddling with my new headset.
"But don't expect me to give you clues,
This is a dare that I won't lose.
I'll wish you luck, because you'll need it,
My record's great -- dare you to beat it."
In the Habitarium
A tiny world in its own,
With tiny houses made of wood, mud, and stone,
Even tinier soldiers marching out to war,
And the tiniest workers with resources to store.
Work all day, work all night.
Working, working, with all their might.
These little bugs are quick and strong,
A force to be reckoned with, but not for long.
In seven days, after going to and fro,
Busily buzzing, always on the go,
Their tiny bodies expire, just like that,
Leaving behind a treat, a gem, to be exact.
Living happy, leaving happy, always so good,
In the Habitarium, the P3s live as they should.
Total Poetry Pages : 1917
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