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BOROVAN DAY SPECIAL
Note from the Poetry Judge: Ogrin Day is being celebrated early this year, so please send your Ogrin Day poems in by 9:00 a.m. NST, Wednesday, December 22nd. Thank you!
The Gift of Borovan
Nothing is more versatile than
The substance known as Borovan;
When thirsty you can drink it up
From an icy glass or blazing stone cup.
Flavour it with mint or cranberry,
Try it orange or sprout or super spicy.
Vanilla might be more to your taste,
No drop of which will go to waste.
Asparagus is its natural pair,
As with it baked goods may be prepared.
You could make lasagne or crepes to start,
Followed by pavlova, cookies, and tarts.
In winter the air is heavy with Borovan steam,
But summer sees it made into cool ice cream.
Asparagus Ice Lollies are a tasty treat,
And made with Borovan, help beat the heat.
Take it with you hot in a Borovan Thermos
Or make it fresh with a Borovan Press.
Cuddle up with a Cup of Borovan Plushie
And wear your Borovan Badge so proudly.
What a miracle of versatility:
Indeed Borovan is used in 365.25 recipes!
So on this Borovan Day, why not treat your palate
And buy yourself a Borovan Gift Basket?
Borovan in My Cup
As the year doth come to close
And winter's chill sets in,
I peacefully reflect upon
The warmth I find within.
A life well led, each day well met,
With pride, my head's held up,
As I gaze at my reflection in the
Borovan in my cup.
Dreams I've seen accomplished
And my family I've seen grow,
And buried deep inside of me
Found strength I didn't know.
Many friends both old and new
With joy have filled me up,
And given me such comfort as the
Borovan in my cup.
Although my travels meet with strife
And hardships to endure,
The simple pleasures found in life
Are there to reassure.
When all the world's against me,
And I feel like giving up,
I close my eyes and ease my soul with
Borovan in my cup.
Borovan Day Miracle
On this most special of days,
As I traipse on powdered snow,
Peeked through a random window,
And nearly gasped while on tiptoe.
That I witnessed Jhudora there?
Draped not in purple and dread,
But laughing with jubilant joy,
Sporting a coat of red instead.
And there by a tree, glimmering in gold,
Is Nox hanging many a string
Of holly, popcorn, mistletoe,
And bunches of other fine things.
Even the Pant Devil I see
Nailing stockings to a roaring fireplace.
Was that possibly a short
Grin gracing the lips of Sloth's face?
Small little gifts sit under the tree,
Which Balthazar eyes with glee,
I wonder what one villain to another's
Gift would be?
Now Count Von Roo appears,
With a big tray of cookies and mugs,
They all exclaim and gather round,
Enough is enough if I see any hugs.
Could it be even these villains,
Put aside their feuds in so many ways,
To share a hot cup of Borovan,
On this most special of days?
Reactions to Spilt Borovan
Every Neopian's different some way,
What they do and what they will say,
Or how they react to some happenings,
The spilling of Borovan, of all things.
Fyora would say, "What's this I see?
Is that Borovan or milk with tea?"
Hubrid would curse you and blast you apart,
The Meepits would hug you and draw a big heart.
Nox will make you come down with the flu.
Ciona Broan would throw a Yooyu,
Talinia shoots arrows with her great aim,
The spilling of drinks can cause you some pain!
Fauna would say, "Don't worry about that!"
Kayla would whack you with her blue hat,
Vira would throw mirrors at you,
While Sloth would drench you with tubs of hair goo.
When Borovan Day finally rolls 'round,
There are precautions to take, I've found.
Angering others is not so much fun,
But whenever I do, my advice is to run.
365.25 Days of Borovan: The .25 Recipe
Every time I tried to cook the .25 recipe,
The page was a bungle of nonsensical things,
Such as: Peophin pour it chocolate to me.
It sounded too much like a joke for the king.
It didn't list ingredients. It didn't list sizes.
It once revealed in a moment of clarity:
This is the best Borovan recipe; I tell no lies.
It seemed as if it was trying to tease me.
Desperate for that delicious cup of brew,
I checked the .25 page every single day.
Nearly four years passed, and I tell you
Nothing made sense in a single way.
On leap year, the month of Awakening came.
Excited, on the twenty-ninth I checked the book.
Oh what frustration! Oh what shame!
It still had that crazy .25 recipe look.
My theory was wrong, and I put the book away.
I gave it a venomous glare and said to myself,
"I will never look at that book another day.
It will just rot there upon that dusty shelf!"
Months passed and the month of Celebrating began.
It was cold, but I refused to make a Borovan cup,
But on the twentieth day, I ended my ban.
I opened the Borovan book and looked a recipe up.
The recipe was new to me, but it looked good.
I took out the pots and the pans and the mugs.
I got together the ingredients that I should.
I made myself Borovan in my favourite jug.
Then at the end, I noticed a phrase:
"This is the .25 recipe. It appears on leap years,
But only on the wonderful Borovan Days!
Outside it's raining. Beneath the world,
Beneath the rain, lie the caves;
Always chill so never cold,
Huger than belief can stand.
Cavernous, echoing, labyrinthine, foreboding.
It's raining in the Up-Above;
No rain or snow in the Down-Below.
She sits, in the shop made to look like stone --
(It's made of brick, really. The facade is a facade.)
-- and drinks a sweet foul chocolate-asparagus brew
While grimacing. Whenever she drinks it
She declares it disgusting,
Loudly, then asks for more.
There are others, of course, because of the rain.
She's always wondered, idly,
Whether it's possible to discern
Some glimmer of themselves
In their drinking choice --
Stories in sugar. Fancies in foam.
The Grarrl, cavelike in that
He is cold and menacing and vast,
Bares his teeth at everyone he sees
And drinks Banana Cream Coffee.
Banana Cream Coffee.
It is sweet and fluffy and innocent, a faerie's drink.
It is, of course, an excellent source of potassium.
A cave coffee conundrum.
And the Krawk who winks when
He sees her looking at him,
Coat and hat draped on the back of his chair,
And in front of him a table
Scattered with hours' worth of cups and mugs,
If he drank slowly,
Absentmindedly, while thinking of things.
Thinking of what?
A distinctly damp Draik drinks dark, dark tea,
Distractedly, talking in a low urgent voice
To his Hissi friend,
Or maybe enemy,
Who took one sip of a Grackle Bug Brew,
And then scorned the slimy stuff.
Not that she blames him.
Draconian, those four, which makes sense enough;
Cold blood chills
When the rain comes down.
But there are others as well,
Furred, feathered, flighty things and frantic things:
A swirly cake Scorchio, a Tangerine Tea Pteri,
A caramel coffee Kau.
She watches them, contentedly,
And drinks her Borovan,
Warm and safe and secret,
Down below in the Down-Below...
How to Drink Borovan
Perhaps at first you may be scared,
To sip from the china cup,
Just block your nose,
And close your eyes,
Don't open them till you're done,
And then perhaps after some time,
You could start to find it yum.
But of course when in doubt
Of the strange concoction,
Why not add some sprouts or mint,
Anything at all will do,
After that it may go down well,
That is, of course, if one can find,
A way to get past the smell.
Borovan: Knowing You Are Home
Wrap up warm as you brave the cold
Of Terror Mountain
Needing that Advent treat.
Take the long route home and savour the frost
Because you know what awaits you
Snap an icicle off of a window ledge
As you wander past.
Slip across the puddles of crystalline ice,
Enjoy the moment of losing control of your paws.
Make a snow angel and let your fur get soaked
Because you know what awaits you
Step inside the front door to sounds of familial banter;
Stroll to the kitchen, follow the scent of food.
Boil the water and take down the jar.
Hold the moment, sniffing the aroma of comfort
Letting the granules flood into the mug.
A cup of steaming Borovan,
Know you're home.
Take a sip and let the warmth flood your veins,
Know you're home.
Watch the fat flakes swirling past the window,
Your family all around you,
The Twisted Roses' Christmas carol blares,
Know that you are home.
Snowy skies, cold winds,
And white fluffy snow marks
A time to come with friends
To drink a drink to warm hearts.
Borovan includes (but this can vary)
A pinch of caring,
A dash of merry,
And teaspoon of sharing.
A flavor combination
Of sweet and smiles.
With the outside frozen,
It keeps you warm for miles.
With cream and sugar?
Or maybe cinnamon?
Maybe something stronger?
Or something more common?
Neopets have been drinking
The delicious drink Borovan
To the sound of glass clinking
Since time began.
So raise your glass and cheer!
The day of Borovan is here!
365.25 Borovan Recipes
Here is a tip for those who like to cook,
Borovan is more than just a sip of hot tea,
And you would know it if you read this book
Called 365.25 Borovan Recipes!
You can make a gooey Borovan pie,
If you're hot, just try the ice cream.
There's no need to question why,
This warm drink is more than it seems.
Paprika is the secret to the spicy stuff,
Vanilla Borovan makes a tasty cookie.
Just when you think you've had enough,
You can snuggle with a Borovan plushie.
Orange Borovan isn't as popular these days,
But if it's healthy food your Neopet seeks,
You should feed them Sprout Borovan anyway,
Have a cup or two with organic leeks.
Borovan can be made into so many treats,
Try the lasagne, the crepes, or the tart.
The only thing I haven't seen is Borovan meats,
But all good recipes have a rough start.
So pick up a Borovan recipe book today.
Have an iced Borovan. Up! On your feet!
If you don't like Borovan, read it anyway.
So your pet can get smarter as it eats!
A cup of something, you say?
Well, here is what I recommend,
A cup of Borovan it is,
For our lovely Borovan Day!
This lovely drink is what I'll serve,
To you, my friend, is what you'll try,
This nice hot drink,
The perfect cure to calm your nerves.
Is it sweet?
Or is it bitter?
I will say, however, that it's delicious,
No other hot beverage can compete.
Breakfast, lunch, dinner,
You can drink this anytime,
Even at best at a tea party,
Definitely serves as a winner.
So toast your mug,
To a friend new or old,
Have a cup of hot Borovan,
To avoid burns, please don't chug!
A Surprise Delight
Today I went to the coffee shop,
and I soon got quickly ordered up
a strange and brown and frothy brew,
I thought perhaps was soup or stew.
"No," said the Aisha, "it's neither
of the two. It's warmer and sweeter."
I took a sniff but still was quite
sceptical of this new, brown delight.
"What's it called?" I asked then.
She replied: "Why, it's Borovan!"
I took a sip, just one at first.
Why, in my mouth, flavour burst!
This is quite the taste I had been
searching for. I could not foresee
that this strange and curious cup
would please my cold lips so much.
"Borovan," I repeated with a smile,
"Borovan, you say." I sat for a while
after, until the night was nearly up.
"Please," said I, "just another cup!"
Ode to Borovan
O Borovan, how lovely are you,
Rich with asparagus
And lashings of chocolate,
Chasing away the blues and flu.
Craved by all, Neopians, faeries, all alike
-- there simply is no better pill, no tablet,
O Borovan, you know not
How my heart beats in happiness
When I sniff your aroma miles away,
Filling my nose with the most pleasant perfume
And I bathe in your wonder.
O Borovan, you do not see
The swoon in my eyes
When I lay sight upon your form:
Lovely, deeply brown; thick and creamy
Foaming ever so slightly --
With marshmallows on top, perhaps.
Can you sense the joyful excitement in me?
Borovan, Borovan! Can you understand, notice
The quaver in my breath
As my eyes dance in tandem
With the steam off your surface
And my hands circle the mug that you fill?
The warmth you give as I slurp you up;
The richness of taste;
Smoothness of texture
No, no, Borovan, these words,
Still, cannot fully say
The joy I -- and all of Neopia -- feel when it is
Beware the Iced Stuff, dear old lad,
With cold that bites and cubes that catch.
Beware the cakes, the crumby stuff.
The dry stuff, in one nasty batch.
For a cup of good cheer, look no further,
I have the winner here
To snuggle up to the warm fire
With all that you hold dear.
A cup of warm Borovan,
A cup of winter joy,
A cup of brown and yummy stuff
For ev'ry girl and boy.
The Best Drink in All of Neopia!
I take a sip of the overflowing cup,
its warmth is better than candy!
I would never give that feeling up,
because Borovan is very handy.
One day when I was very cold,
my mittens were not in sight.
Well, Borovan is better than gold,
'cause it warms when held tight.
Some days I feel so very worn out,
I hardly can get anything done.
A steaming cup makes me run about
and then I have much more fun!
In mornings when snow is falling
and I feel trapped inside,
a giant cup of Borovan is calling
and I can look at the upside!
So now you see why I love it so,
perhaps you'll give it a try?
Speaking of which, I'll have a cup to go
'cause I've really got to fly!
Fancy Some Borovan?
The chilly winter snow,
I wish it was that time again,
For a steaming cup of Borovan
The snowballs that Grundos throw,
And yet they all run home again,
For a steaming cup of Borovan
The carols that we all know,
We sing them all together again,
For a steaming cup for Borovan
Just give it a little blow,
Take another sip again,
We all enjoy the Borovan
Total Poetry Pages : 1865
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