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ZAFARA DAY SPECIAL
Zafara Banana Split
Sitting on the wood kitchen table,
Dripping massive drops of cream,
A blue iced head with sprinkles on
And whipped cream like you've never seen.
The dessert gleams a cool frosted glaze,
Oozing lurid sugar and blueberry jam,
And yet the Zafara pudding stills boasts,
"What a delicious healthy dessert I am!"
For the ice cream and plentiful chocolate,
However bad for you they may appear,
On top of the head, once in each side,
A yellow banana acts as an ear.
With doleful eyes the Zafara head stares,
A message clear upon its melting face:
Just try me, a nibble, one bite that's all
My appearance is more than equalled by taste!
Zafara Pirate Bomber
Enjoying her job unnaturally,
Never quite thinking literally,
Around blasts, no one's calmer,
The talented Pirate Bomber.
Always smelling of gun powder,
Creating explosions, getting louder,
The best Zafara on the seas of azure,
The crafty Pirate Bomber.
Three cherry bombs on her person,
There's no structure she can't worsen,
She'll destroy anything if you holler,
The impeccable Pirate Bomber.
Sinks a ship in twenty minutes,
Doesn't ask for many tributes,
Not one for pointless blabber,
The flawless Pirate Bomber.
Never caught by surprise,
Can see the fear in your eyes,
Better check the corners of your chamber,
The immaculate Pirate Bomber.
When her fuse is lit, it's too late,
Say farewell, it's been great!
Nothing could ever encumber
The excellent Pirate Bomber.
Zafara, you're one of those
things that make me look twice, thrice --
Once. The halo, suspending its
glimmer like a faithful shadow -- those
words would work,
save there's nothing of
shadows about you, and --
Twice. The gold of your tail,
flecks on your ears like
pebbles impossibly splendid, resting
upon wave-washed sands
on a silent harbour, and --
Thrice. The notion that
you can perhaps take flight, though
doubt I never did, for that
easy grace in you takes you
nothing short of
wherever you wish.
Surreal and so real,
and thrice you've made me turn
with those white, white wings.
Royal Zafara Pair
Aren't they just so fashionable,
That stunning royal Zafara pair?
They look so fancy while dancing,
Singing, or even just standing there!
Both exude such an air of regality,
Both are elegant and charming, I say,
And yet neither is better than one another,
They're both special in their own way.
The royalboy Zafara is so debonair
With his handsome feathered cap;
Not only is he quite dashing,
But he's also a friendly sort of chap!
With her elegant dress and shy smile,
The royalgirl Zafara is such a belle!
She is gentle, kind, profusely generous,
And absolutely adorable as well!
For these reasons, and plenty more,
The Zafara is easily my favourite royal Neopet;
They are truly the grandest sort of creature
That I have ever met!
The Tribulations of Ace Zafara
The skies light up a vivid hue
As two ships soar through space,
The grey one flown by Race Robot,
The red by Pilot Ace.
The fearless Ace bolts through the sky,
His daring matched by none.
With silver hull and chassis red,
He glimmers like the sun.
His scarlet ship secures the lead
As Race 'Bot loses steam.
The end is near for Pilot Ace;
His spacecraft reigns supreme.
But suddenly the ads spring up
Like weeds in unkempt grass.
The screen is locked, the spaceship stuck,
As Race 'Bot inches past.
While cursing Sloth, the pilot tries
To rid these ads galore.
He clicks and clicks to no avail;
His spaceship moves no more.
For every time an ad is closed,
Another fills its hole,
Yet Pilot Ace remains unfazed
While focused on his goal.
For Pilot Ace is brave and firm,
No problem can confound.
For one by one he closes ads,
His limits know no bound.
Though ads attack with numbers strong
While Ace stands all alone,
With iron will and hope refilled,
He clears this combat zone.
With ads all tamed, Ace takes control;
He speeds his craft ahead.
Though adverts come to plague his ship,
He fends them off instead.
So in the end, our pilot wins
This breakneck race through space.
O tales of ads and glory,
O tales of Pilot Ace!
Magical moments encase the air,
Bluebells sprout in fields once bare.
A delicate drift of faerie dust,
Zafaras dance in meadows lush.
Under skies that brim with gold,
A party's brewing in the hold.
Zafaras are singing and dancing with glee,
In lands that stretch from the shore to sea.
But please do observe carefully;
Do you realise what I can't see?
Look closer -- ignore those children shouting,
Here's a hint: there're Zafaras that are missing.
Yes: they're the zombie ones, my friend;
To them invitations were not sent.
They're thought to be cold and bitter,
But in actual fact they're solemn loners.
So cut the paranoia and grab a pen,
Write them invitations I'll gladly send.
Let them feel the warmth of sun,
Let them come out and have some fun.
Let them emerge from shadows deep,
Out of mines they hide and sleep.
Because today's Zafara Day:
Even zombies have the right to play.
Last in the Alphabet, First in My Heart
There's something that is upsetting me,
I truly am aghast,
For whenever I search for my pet,
Zafaras always turn up last.
When I get her from a playdate
Or pick her up from Neoschool,
I must first wait through all the Aishas,
The Peophins, and the Usuls.
It truly tries my patience,
As even the Yurbles come before
My dear Zafara, always the last,
To come walking out of the door.
And when I take my Zafara shopping
For treats and toys and books and clothes,
Her favourite things are always at
The very end of shelves and rows.
So too does she come hindmost
When with a group of Zafara friends --
It's but one more curse for zombie pets
That they must all come at the end.
I sometimes wish she was an Acara,
Just so I could see her fast,
But in the end, Zafaras are the best,
And they save the best for last.
Katara, the Beneficent Zafara
Katara had a brother,
Petro was his name,
once he caught NeoPox,
his skin got very inflamed.
Desperate and distressed,
she ran to buy a cure,
but the price was too high,
for her alone to procure.
The Shop Wizard pitied,
and gave her some advice
that might award her the cure,
if she would only pay the price.
To the Wishing Well she ran
and poured out her savings
to cure this wicked disease
her brother had been braving.
She went home and slept,
and morning came with a yell,
her wish had been granted,
and her brother was once again well.
If ever a crime has taken place
That just can't be solved,
If ever things just don't seem right
And there may be crooks involved,
If ever a jewel has been misplaced
And you're just drawing a blank,
Or if there's been a robbery,
At the National Neopian Bank,
If your friend has disappeared
And simply can't be found,
Or your Petpets have been snatched
And there are no clues around,
Then there's one guy you can call
To help you solve your crime.
He'll locate the criminals
And make them serve their time!
So call him round immediately
And he will begin the chase.
He's the Zafara Detective
And now he's on the case!
Magical Brew to Brighten Your Day
"Magical brew to brighten your day!"
The hawkers weave through the crowd.
"You won't regret a penny spent!"
Their voices clear and loud:
"Meridell's finest magick spells!"
The marketplace swells with banter.
"Potions, unguents, hexes, and curses!"
The peasants await their enchanter.
For whom have the townsfolk gathered
their scrimping, scrapings, and savings?
Pickpockets and beggars, camped in the streets,
What wares are they coveting, craving?
'Tis none other than Kayla the Zafara
And her world-renowned Potions Shop!
Her concoctions, compounds, and creations
Are good to the very last drop!
This ingenious young entrepreneur
Is said to have travelled through ages.
Her friends Morris, Boris, and Lisha,
Once children, now heroes and mages!
Kayla, entrusted by Skarl himself
As a champion in Meridell's wars,
Contents herself with chemistry
To bewitch away boils and sores.
Despite her lofty reputation,
This Zafara is happy to stay.
Her wares always sell, so the peddlers yell:
"Magical brew to brighten your day!"
Delma Harrence: Reaching for the stars
A beautiful faerie Zafara,
With exceptional skills,
She can help win games
And give the audience a thrill!
Teaming up with the faeries,
She's gonna go really far.
She's climbing all the way up,
She's reaching for the stars!
Her teammates will bring her high,
Her wings will bring her higher.
One day she'll bring home the Cup,
Delma's hot like fire!
So that's what you have to do,
Just remember her name.
Follow her motto: win or lose,
Just keep playing the game!
Dressed in regal finery,
Edged with lace and pearls,
A blossom of royal youth,
Her majesty doth twirl.
Spinning through the gardens,
Envied by every rose,
A-happening upon a sight,
A stranger by her toes?
A Mortog, with skin so green,
Held gently in her hand,
Cursed to be a prince, perhaps?
With a sword and shield, so grand?
She took a chance, this Zafara,
And kissed the slimy thing --
And was suddenly beheld by light --
Surrounded by a ring!
Alas, the world had grown so big,
And she had shrunk so small,
Another Mortog she had become,
Doomed never to be tall!
Framed Alice Photo
The frame that hangs upon the wall,
Sepia, its shade.
Dust now hides that pretty smile,
Paper, thin and frayed.
A treasure of this burnt-out house,
What lies beneath its frame,
Those eyes and smile, ever-shy,
Untouched by any flame.
Of Neovia's darker days,
When curse had caught them all.
Before the dark, a memory
Hangs upon this very wall.
She smiles at me, behind the frame,
The Zafara seems to try
To remember days before the dark
Of warmer, tender times.
When you hear her laughter, run!
Flee to the hills until all is won!
Not even there are you safe,
From this vicious waif,
For her the chase is part of the fun!
The Pirate Bomber, hungry and lean,
With a roguish grin and eyes sharp and mean,
A Zafara with flair
To cause quite a scare,
Lean but quick, and barely a teen!
With unerring aim she casts her load,
While sizzling fuses sputter a code,
Find some shelter, find it quick!
Make it hard, as hard as brick!
Or do you want that bomb to explode?
Oh wait, too late. "Kaboom!" You might hear,
Rocks and debris, dear oh dear.
And yet the Maraquans cheer,
For the question clear:
How do bombs work under water again?
The Zafara Rogue
In the shadows
Just waiting to find someone
To snitch a few coins from.
Those in the catacombs
All know of her,
the Zafara Rogue,
Who will gladly
Relieve you of a few Neopoints.
But then there are those
Who take the opportunity
To accept her Battledome invitation.
And then she'll find
That she is not the only one
Who can steal from others.
For my young Zafara, I worry;
Always off he goes in a scurry,
With his springs strapped down
and his heart moonbound.
He says Ace Zafara is his hero,
Either he's like him or just a zero.
I say of Ace there can only be one,
But his imagination can never be won.
So to reach Kreludor he seeks
And jumps endlessly for weeks,
But never achieves success,
And doesn't try any less.
I say, "You can't fly with springs,
You won't reach Kreludor,
unless you grow wings!"
Now enraged, he jumps with all his might
And launches out of sight.
today is one of those winter days
when even the trees must bend,
sighing, under the snow's weight.
up here, every day is one of those
winter days; for I have travelled far,
and I have travelled hard,
and for many days and nights
enduring this bitter terrain;
the damp cold seeping into my bones,
the frost chewing at my fingers --
and I press onward, upward
with the taste of pine needles
filling my mouth with each breath.
how many before me, I wonder,
have tried the same and failed?
how many have given up halfway
on this frozen path,
turned away from
Terror Mountain's harsh trails,
abandoned their expeditions
and the quest for the peak?
this I wonder, without hope,
in the desolate cold;
yet then I recall a promise made
to myself, to the sky
in the glow of the northern lights,
that I would not fail,
would not give up or turn away.
I recall a promise made
to a Zafara, her wings pure white
and her halo golden,
on the stormiest of nights;
so I continue, through the cold --
for her guidance is my candlelight.
Even Edna Loves Zafara Day
Across the forest,
In a menacing tower,
A lone Zafara stirs her brew.
As the hag mixes the last ingredients,
She lets a grin crawl across her face.
Her potion comes to a bubble,
Ready to be consumed.
Laughter penetrates the silence
As she watches the festivities unfold.
Through her window,
She sees the Zafaras of Neopia rejoice,
For it is the day
That makes even old Edna smile.
She takes no sides,
No allegiance but the pay,
Your enemy tomorrow,
Could be your spy today.
She harbours no ill will,
Does not care for right and wrong.
It's to the highest bidder,
That her information will belong.
Guard ye well your secrets,
For she'll uncover all you hide.
Whether or not you trust her,
Well, that's for you to decide.
In the business of knowledge,
No other does it better,
And this sneaky little spy,
Has yet to gain a fetter.
So if you wish to gain the upper hand,
You better have your payment.
For all she'll get you any info:
The Zafara Double Agent.
Shenkuu's Star Zafara
The newest player on Shenkuu's own
home-grown Yooyuball team,
whose skills have earned her accolades
and ranks in fans' esteem.
'Easily fooled,' critics might sneer,
'And tricked into quick schemes.'
But, as her grinning teammates say,
she's more than what they deem.
Her playing might vary on days;
quite erratic, but just watch her
attack steadily ream
through seemingly tough formations
with a mischievous gleam
in her eye. Her defence is
literally a dream
or worst nightmare, depending on
exactly which team
you're on; she'll block every shot
while Yooyuball fans scream.
Interviewed on Zafara Day,
Antola Maeir beamed
and said, "Next season, watch and see:
Shenkuu will reign supreme."
Total Poetry Pages : 1955
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