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BOROVAN DAY SPECIAL
I oft did wonder about this drink,
Perplexed, I dared to think,
How a simple beverage, pray,
Could get its very own special day.
Nay, 'tis not what's in the cup,
Or if it fills you up.
No, it's nothing like tea,
My friend explained to me.
Yes, it's quite tasty, she said,
And rather good with bread.
But more than quench your thirst,
It brings Neopets together first.
Borovan is used to put aside one’s feud,
To lighten everyone's mood,
For friends to come together, see,
Full of joyful thoughts and glee.
So, we sipped and chatted in cheer
About days gone past this year,
Then finally I understood,
Why everyone said Borovan was so good!
Super Size Borovan
This Borovan is super-sized.
It's bigger than my home.
Contained within a barrel brown,
It's topped with amber foam.
A golden spigot on its side
From which the liquid pours
Is nearly higher than my head.
To reach it is a chore!
I grab a ladder, tall and strong,
To reach that Borovan,
So steamy, rich, and full of spice.
I'm nearly woebegone!
I finally reach the golden spout
And turn the handle quick.
I'm doused with steaming Borovan.
I give my skin a lick!
I've reached the treasured Borovan!
I dance and wet my tongue!
Then suddenly remember that
I'm on a ladder's rung!
I tumble off ungraciously
And others stop to laugh.
I cannot help but chuckle, too.
My tumble was a gaffe!
The Borovan's a special treat!
Its day is here at last.
Please, celebrate the holiday
With humor, joy, and class!
Hot Cup Of Borovan
What better way to celebrate
Borovan Day with flair
Than converting that wondrous drink
To a drink you can wear?
A seemingly impossible
Method had been found
At one time, in the NC Mall,
Though few are now around.
Logic bows down to the length
Of two marshmallow strings,
Which deceptively adhere
To themselves -- allowing
Arms of many sizes to
Slip right through and grasp
The sides of a blue, steaming cup.
Those sturdy arms will clasp
The cup, so loath to let it slip.
Said cup contains a sweet
Medley of asparagus
And chocolate -- a treat!
From this, a new property
Was newly discovered:
Borovan baths are great for stress
While the cup's uncovered!
A Mug Of Borovan
Winter's frost does freeze my toes,
Leaves an icicle on my nose,
It won't be too bad, I suppose,
If I can have a mug of Borovan.
All day long I'm playing games,
Earning Neopoints to buy festive frames,
Dreaming of some nice, warm flames,
And a lovely mug of Borovan.
At this time of year I give gifts,
Wrap until they're piled in cliffs,
Then I wait 'til the snow storm lifts,
With a tasty mug of Borovan.
My tree is decked in gold and red,
Stockings hung at the foot of my bed,
When I come home after riding my sled,
I love a mug of Borovan.
On Borovan Day, of course, this year,
What I'm after should be perfectly clear --
I want a lovely pet reindeer!
And a nice warm mug of Borovan!
Holiday Borovan Service
If you're seeking a festive treat,
Look no further than this teapot.
The holiday Borovan service is sweet,
Adorned with sprigs of mistletoe.
It comes complete with sugar cubes
For offering to your fancy guests;
There are a jumble of inside tubes
To separate bits of loose Asparagus.
There are many cakes to serve it with,
Just look around the Neopian worlds;
For a gourmet taste, try lemon pith,
It adds a bitter texture and flavour.
The lid is glued to the pot tight
To avoid unwanted spillages;
And on the spout is a special light
For tea parties hosted in the dark.
Around the teapot, cup, and dish,
An ornate design has been drawn on.
Does it not make you, for one of these, wish?
They're fancy enough for displaying.
The set is painted a suitable green,
Perfect for use these coming holidays;
But it's quite an expensive machine,
So go and buy yours while stocks last!
Head down to the coffee cave
To get yourself one of these delights;
Or as a gift, it's sure to be a fave!
For the 'pet who has everything.
The Cooking Pot Dilemma
I’ve been waiting for a while
For this line to move faster.
If my ingredients go bad,
It will become a disaster!
I’m waiting for the Cooking Pot
Since it’s a special day today,
But this line to mix our foods
Is causing a long delay.
I just want to mix my foods,
To create a delicious drink.
Later, while I’m at home,
I’ll toast to make that clink.
This drink is quite special,
I have it only once each year.
It reminds me of the winter,
The Advent Calendar, and cheer.
To some, it is quite gross;
A foul mix of two things.
They say that it’s not for all,
That the taste rather stings.
But I think they’re lying,
Have they not seen this line?
There’s hundreds here today
To try to make this brine.
I do like Borovan,
And I bet those critics do, too.
The Cooking Pot is boiling,
Full of this specialty brew!
A Hot Cup Of Borovan
Every 'pet owner knows,
Borovan is a hot drink their Neopet enjoys
When the snow is blowing and it's cold,
During the season of holiday joy.
A warm cup of Borovan
Is a treat loved by all girls and boys,
A simple treat for any Neopet
While enjoying their shiny new toys.
Try the apple, mint or banilla brew,
Each blend has been made to savor.
You really have to try them all,
Borovan is known for its many flavors.
It has never been defined
If Borovan is coffee or tea,
Which is all just part of
The Borovan mystery!
Whether it's coffee, tea, or neither,
One thing is clear, that's for sure:
It's that every Neopet would love to find
A hot cup of Borovan waiting at their door!
A Cup Of Borovan
If Snow Roller and Let It Slide
Are games you love to play,
Then drink a cup of Borovan
To chase the chill away.
A steaming cup of that hot drink
Will warm you to the core;
It’s a taste of sweet perfection
That will make you long for more.
And after you have gladly quaffed
The very last drop,
Other Borovan delights
Will make it difficult to stop.
You can brew up a large pot
With a handy Borovan Press,
Then serve it up in style
With a Borovan Service.
If your taste buds are daring,
You might like to try
A generous slice of
Suspicious Borovan Creame Pie.
And don’t forget a
Scrumptious Borovan Cookie or two;
They’re the perfect accompaniment
To your Borovan brew.
So, the next time that you crave
A chocolate-asparagus treat,
A lovely cup of Borovan
Is the treat that can’t be beat!
A Steamy Mug
Icicles iridescent in the cold starlight,
Shimmer in an endless, inky night.
Fluffy snowflakes spiraling on an endless flight.
Waves of snow, piled in stacks soaring,
Neopians tucked in with fires roaring,
The reverberating sound
Of the Snowager's snoring.
A chill breeze flitting through bare trees,
Wrapped up in scarves before the freeze,
Whipping down the hill on glossy new skis.
Steaming breath wafting and drifting,
Endless paths of snow falling and shifting,
A month filled with happiness, warmth, and gifting.
Frost nipping cheeks, apples blooming there,
Gasping in the cold and biting air.
Laughing in the frigid chill without a care.
Taking off mittens and gripping the mug,
The warmth spilling inside like the grip of a hug,
A delicious mug savored and downed with a chug.
A hot cup of Borovan to chase away cold,
Suffusing with warmth in a tender hold,
Renewing and reviving both young and old.
Steam fills the air as the heat rises fast,
Drinking it slowly, making it last.
Now the smell lingers on, the drink in the past.
Refill the mug, and gladly you'll say,
"Drink up! Sip quick! Happy Borovan Day!"
A Mug Of Borovan
The snow blew in his face,
The ice hung off his mane,
Through the frost he ambled
And, with the bell, he came
Into the glowing coffee shop,
Its odours whirled around him.
Rich Borovan, sweet Tigersquash,
He sat at a table and, then.
Kicking off his boots,
Unwound his scarf and, redirecting his maw,
Perused the chalkboard menu,
Then gestured to me, with a claw:
“Excuse me miss,” he called,
Raising his large yellow eyes...
“I'll have a mug of borovan.”
No room for cream, I surmised.
The Borovan came from a plant,
Extracted by bringing to boil
A pot of water sitting beneath
The fruit. Then, just as it spoils --
The flame is reduced,
Bringing boil to simmer
From the fruit, brown juice
Emerges; collects on the skin, and glimmers.
As time trickles by,
Juice gathers like snow
Then condenses, and drops
To the mug placed below.
I filled the Krawk's mug
With the steaming brown liquid,
I delivered it to him --
Said something insipid,
Like, “Careful, it's hot.”
As if that were hidden
In the steam that emerged
Like a Hissi,
Snakes from the basket
Of the Qasalan charmer.
He brought the mug to his lips
And replied, “Now I'm warmer.”
I smiled, relaxed.
He was equally light,
Having bested the cold --
Won the Snow Faerie's spite.
He finished the Borovan,
Placed his points on the mug,
Rewound the wool scarf, donned the hat,
His thick gloves.
The Krawk, now adrift
In a sea of warm clothing,
Turned from the mug and...
with a manner like loathing...
Said as he opened the door,
“I must go.”
But his heart, steeped in Borovan,
Played fire to snow.
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