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XWEETOK DAY SPECIAL
Sings the faerie Xweetok
As she flies
Through the skies
In search of jelly beans
Cries the pirate Xweetok...
Row the oars,
A treasure of jelly beans
Sobs the grey Xweetok...
Far from home,
She's lost her jelly beans
Screams the blue Xweetok
In the 'Dome,
Far to roam,
On a quest for jelly beans
All the Xweetoks say,
Is Xweetok Day...
Let's feast on jelly beans!
The Free Xweetok
So carefree is the faerie
that flies above the grass,
over the colorful petals,
she glides gracefully past.
Her wings like the delicate
light that shines down,
which gives her a majestic look,
so much like a jeweled crown.
Her fur ruffles in the
breeze of gentle wind,
no worries in her thoughts,
all troubles left behind.
With no fetters to ideals,
nor confinement to space,
she spirals upward in the air
and braces her free place.
A Speckled Xweetok Morphing Potion
Kauvara is often busy,
Creating new magic things
That are loved by all who
Partake in restocking.
Morphing potions to make a 'pet
Anything that they want.
(Except for lab-only colors,
So that means no Robot)
And one that you can find,
Although it might make you stop,
Is a potion that can turn your 'pet
Into a speckled Xweetok.
Now, Kauvara might say that
These 'pets are charming,
But being a speckled Xweetok
Might be more alarming.
For the most famous Xweetok
Known to almost all of ya,
Was a dastardly speckled one
That went by the name Xandra.
Would you want your 'pet
To look like the fiend
Who crashed down Faerieland
And destroyed so many dreams?
Perhaps you should pass;
There are other potions, you see,
Like one over there to make
Your 'pet a fancy green Uni.
But, perhaps, you should buy it
And have them defy the stereotype.
For not all speckled Xweetoks are evil,
Some are quite all right.
The Faerie Xweetok
You are truly beautiful
In every way.
With your graceful teal
Fur over top your light skin;
It's truly gorgeous!
Your wings are of a
Butterfly's, fragile yet full
Of bright, neat colors.
You make the other faeires
Envious of you.
You're perfect as is,
You always have and will be,
Faerie Xweetok In The Night
There’s whistling on the moors tonight,
like mountain winds across the snow,
and, hanging from a chestnut branch,
the crescent moon is low.
But who goes there? A flash of wings,
green eyes light the dusty land,
and on the drape of night there comes a,
“Catch me if you can!”
With speed your eyes cannot believe
a Xweetok flickers through the night
and disappears among the leaves,
with a chortle of delight.
A breathless chase through thicket bush,
a sudden wink, a gentle flick
of bushy emerald tail precedes a,
“Better catch me quick!”
There! Behind those moonlit trees --
a fluffy mane, a cheeky grin,
you part the branches wide and find...
nothing but the wind.
The Tyrannian Xweetok
His teeth are long and pointed,
His hair is all a mess,
He grunts and uggs and growls
And rather lacks finesse
His eyes are blue and beady,
And he's rough around the edges,
There's dirt clods in his fur
And he doesn't smell too pleasant
He can be intimidating
If you judge on looks alone,
Though that smile can be chilling
Right down to the bone
He's furry and he's hairy,
A beastly sort of 'pet,
Who, if you meet in a dark alley,
Might just make you sweat
But today he'll be quite harmless,
And "Ugga ug uggh!" he will say,
Which, to this Tyrannian Xweetok,
Means "Happy Xweetok Day."
Up upon the dunes, so high,
Where it’s sandy and hot,
You’ll probably see Lillian,
For that’s her favorite spot.
The daughter of a famous scientist,
This red Xweetok is known to most,
But Lillian Fairweather has her own
Deeds of which to boast.
She spends her time digging away
Under the bright, hot sun,
Looking for ancient artifacts
Three, two, or only one.
Next it is off to the islands,
So warm and damp are they,
Learning and studying types of plants
Is how this Xweetok spends her day.
Maybe a new species here,
Or possibly one over there,
Lillian can spot something new
Almost any and everywhere!
With her brown, keen eyes
And her very sharp mind,
There will always be something new
For this adventurous Xweetok to find!
Xweetok Ruckus (A Limerick)
Xweetoks kept jumping on my head.
“Oh, please do pardon me,” one said.
Along more came,
Said more of the same,
So I thought I’d just go to bed.
The Xwees followed me to my room.
I’ll confess, I began to fume.
I grabbed a tail,
And began to wail,
“You beasts are going to be my doom!”
“Chill, man,” one said with cheeky grin.
“Just find your center, like... be zen.”
My teeth I grated,
And groused, “Out, you and all your kin.”
“But don’t you know? Didn’t you read?”
Said a little pink Xwee to me.
“We always play
Tag every day.
It’s on our info page, tee hee.”
“That’s right,” a third Xweetok chimed in.
“Not to play tag would be like sin
For all our kind.
Now, if you don’t mind,
Tag! You’re now 'it.' Come chase us, Rin!”
And such is how the story goes,
From my bed at once I arose,
I’ve played their game
In the sun and the rain,
And I’m still "it" yet, y’know, so...
TAG! You’re "it"! You’re "it"! You’re "it" now!
I’m free at last to go lay down.
You can chase them,
Just try to catch them,
They’re the fastest critters in town.
The Xweetok Bard
The Xweetok hummed a hearty tune,
His ears were sparked with fire,
The Bard had rose, his hands aloft,
As he played upon the shire.
The citizens stopped, their hearts aflame,
Oh what a lovely sing-song,
They bopped their heads
And tapped their feet,
And stayed in silence for too long.
A tune, another, he continued to play,
Each note of his strings so yearned for,
His feet did prance, they moved and danced,
As he told, through the music, his lore.
His fluffy tail did waft along,
The wind filled with his smooth tune,
His instruments banged, clattered, and rung,
But the crowd gathered, far too soon.
And as the sun set, the Xweetok did part,
His gift of song was given,
But what keeps him playing all day long?
The passion in his heart keeps him driven.
Xweetok, I think you
Were named for a reason rather
Uninspired. Then again, the word
Truly does conjure up your
Sweeping tail and
Questioning eyes... a face with
Purpose. In this way, your
Name in fact fits you shockingly well; it
Makes me wonder how
Long someone puzzled over
Kacheek and Kyrii, making letters sound
Just right, just like what they mean.
I don't think that I
Gift in me; naming is, in no way, my
Even if it were, I
Doubt I'd be
Clever enough to think up yours.
Bright-eyed Xweetok, paws poised,
Awaiting the chase you are said to love, a
Zenlike grin beginning on your face;
You deserve a celebration, dearest
Total Poetry Pages : 1954
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