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LUPE DAY SPECIAL
The Bounty Hunter
I prefer the Inflatable,
Who is not as scary.
The actual Balthazar --
Ferocious and quite hairy.
He was abandoned,
And attacked quite young
By those evil dark faeries;
How that fight must have stung.
Balthazar now avenges
And captures all the faeries.
Put into small bottles,
It’s all this Lupe carries.
He sells them for a fortune
To Neopians everywhere.
He may try to rip you off,
So buyers, do beware.
Balthazar can be kind,
Every once in a while.
Donating to the Money Tree;
Acting not as vile.
This Lupe is in the Woods,
And howls in the night.
Find him lurking there
And you’re up for a fight!
Haiku Of Gnarfas, The Lupe
Ball of red fury,
Towering above most, with
Four powerful arms.
This Lupe is termed
Gnarfas, who is a minion
Of the Werelupe King.
He is not a great
Speaker, nor does he have fine
What he can do, though,
Is combine his power with
These two elements
Letting him create a vast
Attack few can dodge.
He has his moments
Of insanity, most of
The time he’s awake;
Even the Werelupe
King himself can hardly use
Control over him.
Of course, it does not
Help the weary traveler much
That his interest; it
If you encounter Gnarfas
You should turn and run;
Hopefully you can
Escape his deadly maw and
Severe razor claws.
Envy, The Green-Eyed Spirit Lupe
Take heed, ye Order of the Red Erisim,
For harkening the call of the Oracle,
A spirit Lupe, mere wisps of green,
Has appeared with weapons rhetorical
Hie ye now to Battledome,
Join the fight for the Obelisk,
But be forewarned 'tis not your flesh
But your psyches that are at risk
Your swords and axes, honed and keen,
Slash useless through the air
As Envy spins his taunts and barbs
With easy savoir faire
"It really is quite sad," says he,
"To see a wizard with such poor magic.
The Order made a mistake with you,
Your skills are so pathetic.
"Do you like my weapons?" asks he,
"You never have any like them.
Your friends were given better spells than you,
You'll never be so enlightened."
Take care, Order of the Red Erisim,
For, as the embodiment of your fears,
Envy, the green-eyed spirit Lupe,
Can bring the strongest wizard down in tears
Barik Von Lupe
Do you like a mystery?
Perhaps a book to read,
About a wonderful Inspector
Who solves crimes at super speed?
Barik Von Lupe is his name,
And he's solved a case or two.
If you need help with a mystery,
He'll tell you what to do.
He helped a Grarrl names Fantos
To recover his lost bike,
When he noticed a local Meerca
That had a look-alike.
It seemed the Meerca stole it
And painted it a purple hue,
But Barik could see right away
The paint job was too new.
So, he caught the naughty Meerca
And returned the stolen goods
To the worried little Grarrl,
Who had been crying floods.
Barik Von Lupe is just the one
To keep Neopia secure,
And you can read about his cases
In a book you could procure.
Lupe Mysteries is the tome
That I suggest you read,
To find out more about this Lupe
And his every brilliant deed!
A Ghost Lupe Adventure
After a shipwreck and arriving at shore,
The Ghost Lupe realized he was no more.
In a sense he was, but not quite the same.
Turbulent weather was to blame.
Wandering the beaches and the forests, too.
He really didn't know what to do.
Would this be the area
That would be his home,
Or should he seek another place to roam?
Many moons and years of wandering,
He just kept going while he kept pondering.
There were some frightful shrieks one night,
Would he check it out? He just might.
A couple of little Usuls, in spectral form,
They seemed to be lost and not very warm.
Lanie and Lillie shivered as he approached,
He remembered the feeling,
After what happened to the boat.
"It's not THAT bad here," he silently whispered.
While smiling for them
And shaking his whiskers.
Curling up next to them, they gave him a hug,
And at his ears and tail,
They smiled and tugged.
They continued to play about,
No need to pout, no need to shout,
Even though they pinched his little Lupe snout!
The Ghost Lupe howled out in laughter
And the twins did giggle.
Especially when they reached over
And gave him a tickle.
Whether together, or far or near,
There shall be a Happy Lupe Day,
Year after year.
A Witch's Lupe Wand
The Order of the Red Erisim is my faction,
we're ready for battle without retraction.
I will fight for them no matter the cost,
but I can't find my wand and fear it's lost.
After hours of using lost-n-found spells,
even looking in my trash bin (which smells).
I'd decided it was time to go buy another,
though my old wand was unlike any other.
So, I had to find one that was truly unique,
on my broom to Battle Magic I went to seek.
This shoppe was where I found my old wand,
hoping I'd find one again that would bond.
Walking down an aisle I saw a wand of blue,
it was a Lupe Wand and quite bright to view.
Sensing this wand had a lot of rare power,
I bought it and flew, quick, back to my tower.
Testing needed to be done without delay;
a witch must make sure her wand will obey.
My new Lupe Wand was proving itself true,
no matter what spell I used or what brew.
At long last I knew I was once again ready;
war will not shake me I shall be steady.
Putting on my green pointy hat and cloak,
tapping my wand, I vanished with red smoke.
The Triumph Of The Dire Lupe
The dawning Hero patrols the plains,
Neopia City he will protect!
Of course, all he’s doing is slaying imps...
But hopefully, that has an effect.
The new adventurer takes a look around
While his last foe, vanquished, flees.
Rolling plains, but curiosity spikes
When he sees a copse of trees.
The Hero steps into the woods --
And ducks a slash of claws!
From an apparition, red as blood,
Of matted fur and hungry jaws!
A Lupe like himself, the Hero sees,
But not like himself; untamed,
A feral beast with razor teeth
That puts those imps to shame!
Nevertheless, the Hero stands
And draws his magic wand.
The Dire Lupe roars his challenge back
And, like that, the fight is on.
It lunges out, with claws so close,
He swears his hairs just split.
He launches off a Fireball;
It lands, and what a hit!
But the monster stands, with smoking fur
And springs at him with a hiss!
If only he’d picked that Spectral Magic...
Maybe those teeth would miss!
His wounds are great, and supplies are low;
Perhaps it’s time for a retreat?
So the budding Hero turned tail and ran,
And the Dire Lupe roared triumphantly!
Howl Of The Werelupe
A dark and eerie night
deep in the Haunted Woods,
a time when no one dares to
tread, even with the proper goods.
A creepy time, the dead of night,
a snapping branch echoes out,
a fearful time, a frightful trip,
one you could do without.
The path is cluttered and
the tress are gnarled,
when suddenly a sound rings out,
a low and frightful howl.
It carries in the air
of this murky night,
and feels like an icy hand,
filling you with fright.
A Werelupe's howl rings out,
drawing ever closer,
your feet move without you
and you break into a run.
Faster and faster you go,
heading for your home,
trying to get out of the woods
where the Werelupes roam.
You make it back and shut the door
and hide under the bed,
you don't emerge until the sun rises
and chases away the dread.
Safe for another day,
living in the woods,
until night falls once more
and the Werelupe howl returns.
On the throne of Altador
Sits the greatest Lupe of all,
The Hunter who fought
In battles grand,
Forever standing tall.
While in disguise
He taught young Tor and,
Though gravely injured,
He made his escape
Back to Altador.
He led an alliance
Of heroes quite brave,
Through hill and dale
They made their way,
For Faerieland they slaved.
On the throne of Altador
Sits the greatest Lupe of all,
Who needs no jokes or
Wisdom to entertain, but
The tokens he gives me are small....
Hulgar The Werelupe
Hulgar of Swamp Ridge is a prince of a fellow,
His smile comes easy, his manners are mild.
He waves to his neighbors
And tends to his garden
But behind his kind eyes
Broods something quite wild.
As evening approaches his fur begins bristling,
His long tail lashes, his yellow eyes roll,
He stumbles down into the dark of the cellar,
In an attempt to contain that
Which he cannot control.
The sound of a whimper,
Bones cracking in two,
Then mute, hollow silence
Emanates from below
Until, at last, a long, wicked howl
Fills the air with a dread
That shudders and grows.
And then, like a shot streaking into the night,
Bolts a tangled form of muscle and fury,
Poor Hulgar is caught
In his own primal darkness,
Sending all lesser creatures fleeing in a hurry.
When dawn shines her glory,
Hulgar lies battered,
Deep in the forest, away from his home,
His fur is matted with the scum of his secret,
And he rises to his feet with a piteous groan.
In the morning sunshine
He limps back to his cottage,
He waves to his neighbors,
He puts on his suit.
But behind his eyes
Burns that beast of the nighttime,
The feral ferocity of the sleeping Werelupe.
Total Poetry Pages : 2008
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