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Scorchio of Burning Roar
Hot blazing breath and searing flame
Erupt from jagged cavern jaws.
His teeth are blackened by the ash:
Two rows of sharpened, tiny saws.
The Scorchio of burning roar
Spreads wide his wings in fearsome stance.
The air before him shudders with
A rippled heat wave's twisting dance.
Steam rises from his smoky tongue
As echoes of the blast return,
Reverberating from the hills
Whose grass is singed with fiery burn.
A silence, then; an inhaled breath.
The Scorchio surveys his land.
But no one answers back his dare;
Alone, unchallenged does he stand.
A Concern of Brynn's
'Captain of the Guard,' she smiled --
All the turmoil, reconciled.
Xandra, traitor so reviled
Has turned into a relic mild.
But Captain's duties never end --
Thanks in part to her dear friend.
Though his record's on the mend,
She may still need to apprehend
This criminal, this miscreant.
She fears someday he will recant
His vows of trust, however scant,
And sticky fingers will supplant
Tokens of long-lost cities.
His charm might earn impunity
But never full immunities.
So Captain Brynn will worry still
That her friend Hanso keeps goodwill.
If his intentions go downhill...
She knows the law must be fulfilled.
we usher in the spring
with cool rain
on our faces,
caught in pails,
and on wildflowers
that grow in the cracks
the Rainbow Pool
overflows and the rim
is the colour of laughter.
everyone wants a new
coat so bright
the days grow longer,
and in our paws we hold
the blooms of spring:
bluebells and Pebeanjays,
buttercups and pine.
the earth smells moist
where the snow has spilt,
and little seedlings
out of the darkness we come
with new hope.
crunch an artichoke,
put a candle in the window
for the light to come home
as the darkness retreats
To those who love to customise
Matching colour, style, shape, and size,
Have you ever looked at the world through
A trinket's different point of view?
While you admire that Red Toadstool,
Thinking with that background it looks cool.
That poor Red Toadstool just sits and sighs,
Wishing if only its position it could revise.
When it wakes up the first thing to greet
Is the pungent smell of your Neopet's feet,
And as it makes its way through the day,
Right next to those feet it must stay.
It really is an unpleasant way to live,
As fashion's unsuspecting captive.
When you could be someone's gallery,
On display for all of Neopia to see,
Instead it's peering at what grows
In between your treasured Neopet's toes.
So while you think that trinket is festive,
That's really all a matter of perspective.
Little Captive Shadow Wraiths
Little Captive Shadow Wraith,
with your shadowy claws
and menacing smile.
Prancing to and fro,
cookies, Neopoints, and plushies.
Hoarding them away
in hidden alcoves in your Neohome.
Tail twitching -- claws scratching furniture,
these mischievous creatures growl
Feed them well,
or they shall find
any number of things to chew
whether it be pet, Petpet, or food.
Wickedly they desire for attention,
laying in your lap,
flicking their tail at you when they want to be petted,
leaving little wounds.
Curled up tight
do they sleep,
dreaming dreams of evil deeds.
When with other Petpets,
it does play
by throwing pebbles or snowballs
(depending on the season).
Petpetpets be advised,
that these Petpets do not take care
when handling you in their shadow-laden lairs.
Sweetly these creatures do fly,
swooping down on all
whether friend or foe.
Total Poetry Pages : 1776
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