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Ode to the Mystery Pics
All around the world of Neopia
Tiny pictures have been released.
But to lay your hands upon them
You look to the north, the west, and southeast.
Very few of us have found them,
They've been mocking us for ages.
Back and forth and up and down
Over all the Neopets pages.
They come in all the shapes and shades
But one thing they in common share:
They're small, they're tiny, they're minimal
And they can be found just about anywhere.
I have yet to succeed in my quest,
In my search for the grail.
I know they're somewhere out there
Even if I across the oceans must sail.
I venture through the ghoulish forests,
And I venture through the endless desert.
I venture through the freezing mountain
But the tiny images, they remain unhurt.
Hours have turned to days
And days have turned to weeks.
This patience has taught me a lesson,
That the one who finds he seeks.
And if I ever finish my quest,
My never-ending story.
I'll find to my vexation
That somebody's been there before me.
Island retrievin' ain't an easy task,
In fact, ya might say it's quite taskin',
For it certainly ain't a fun sort of thing,
Like searfarin' or sun-baskin'.
First off, ya know, islands are sort of big,
Even the tiny ones ain't all that small,
It takes the effort of everyone on board,
From the cook to the boatswain -- all!
The weather is a tempestuous sort, too,
Sometimes foul and sometimes fair,
Ya know it's really quite disheartening,
To have yer ship leak and yer sails tear!
And the crew... well, they ain't the brightest lot,
And certainly quite lazy to boot,
They ain't motivated by anything but,
Delicious victuals and valuable loot.
With these problems and more,
The island retrieval might be slow, but it's sure,
We'll eventually round up all those isles, I promise,
No matter how long it takes, good sir!
A long hot day in Qasala
yields a heart's deepest ambition;
to cavort with luck and toy with fate,
without a gambler's contrition.
A hidden place in alleyway
on the darker side of town,
his armor gleams as he speaks to me
about his wheel renowned.
He says, "Step right up my friend and see,
you're looking opportune today.
Back home I've many mouths to feed
and this is the only way.
It's not a cheat, this wheel, I swear!
nor does it play on your worst vice.
It's just a game of chance my friend,
like slots and your Bilge Dice.
A small fortune you must pay
a fee, you might assess.
But to gain eternal opulence,
the wealth you will possess.
Seems that here's a risk to take,
but you've got a decent chance.
'Cause lady luck, she's here with you
and with her you shall dance.
So won't you take the wheel today?
Give her a big strong spin,"
he says with eyes that I can trust,
but with malice in his grin.
So do I spin or do I not?
Will I put in more than I get?
I clasp the tacks upon the wheel,
but instantly regret.
For as the wheel spins 'round and 'round;
a click with every pass,
from the corner of my eye I see
him counting up my cash.
I hear the ticks begin to slow,
anxious of what comes next,
the clicking ends, the ticker stops
upon that accursed "X."
The wheelkeep grins and shakes his head,
"A shame, but have no sorrow,
this wheel can be spun once a day,
you can come back tomorrow."
I clench my fists and leave the place,
vow never again to spin.
But in my truest heart of hearts,
I'm sure tomorrow I will win.
SOMETHING HAS HAPPENED!
You find a mystical codestone on the floor!
"Oh boy!" you say to yourself,
"I'll bet this is worth quite a lot!"
As you hurry to scamper off, suddenly,
A strange voice makes you stop.
"Hey! You there!"
The voice says with disgust.
"Yeah, that's right, I'm the floor," he says,
Making you most nonplussed.
He continues, "I give, give, give!
Give codestones, maps, and faeries!
Maybe you think I like giving gifts?
HA! Quite the contrary!
Why? Because you never even say thanks,
Not once, not a single time!
'Thank you' never escapes your lips
For this generosity of mine!
But you're oh-so-quick to trample me
To run and Shop Wiz the price
Of the very item I just gave you!
Now tell me, is that nice?"
He spits, "I'm sick and tired of your rudeness,
Your lack of manners has me appalled!"
He decides, "Maybe Neopia doesn't want my gifts.
Humph, I'll stop giving at all!"
He grins, "And then where will you be?
'Oh, floor! I need a codestone!' You'll wail.
But because you missed your chance before,
I'll say, 'Your begging is to no avail.'
What a terrible day for Neopia!
And it could really happen quite soon.
Unless you begin to show some respect,
Because, really, it's not the least picayune!"
And with that, the voice stops.
The Floor is silent once more.
You slink home, and put your codestone,
Your gift, into your "Prized Possessions" drawer.
A Tribute to the Trading Post
At the corner of sleepy Mystery Island,
Quiet is the mystic and Tiki Tours for sea or land.
For their business is stolen and peace is lost,
Standing out like a sore thumb
Is our busy and noisy Trading Post.
Never a dull moment when you browse the lots,
You may even gain more Neopoints here
Than playing Brucey B Slots,
Thousands of goods available for sale day and night.
Just keep your vigliance up
And trade when the price is right.
Paint brushes, piles of dung, or Fyora's artifacts,
Always check the Shop Wizard
As wishlists are normally not in tact.
My favourite items are pretty rarity ninety nines,
Rather than giving them to Illusen,
I will like to keep them as mine.
Never beg and do not spam,
You will get frozen even for
Asking for a piece of ham.
You can start trading honestly from a cup of tea,
After years of hardwork you may
Earn yourself a Super Attack Pea.
Jhuidah's pretty face notifies you
Whether your offer is accepted or not,
But sometimes she misled me by smiling
Even when my bid is returned by a closed lot!
Restockers, resellers, and collectors all rejoice,
Even at inflated prices it is a place we all enjoy!
Total Poetry Pages : 1984
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