Bruce Day Special

The Rink Runner ( Bruce Day)
by dortho

Bruces really seem to love the cold, 
Whether they are young or 4000 days old.
Enjoying the ice and all the snow, 
And feeling the really cold wind blow.

Rink Runner is an activity that amuses them,
Testing their agility without going to the gym.
Putting on those skates, and going with the breeze, 
Seems to put their lovely bruce hearts at ease.

Putting on the ice skates, and following the wind, 
This little Bruce was aiming for the win! 
Catching all the notes to make a catchy tune,
Even took a leap, and jumped over the Kreludan moom! 

The audience applauded when they saw this stunt, 
Enjoying the music and had a lot of fun!
The event was over, but many did stay, 
To wish that Bruce a Happy Bruce Day!

The Charm of a Cool Christmas Bruce
by _brainchild_

This Christmas Bruce is handsome;
I adore his color scheme.
His stellar clothing turns me numb!
No one bests him, it seems.

His blue bow is quite charming.
Plus, his fluffy coat is swell.
Hopefully no one has harmed
A living animal.

His beak is very shiny.
Wow, his eyes gleam like fresh snow!
His feet are oh so tiny—
They're extremely cute, I know.

If you've found a Christmas brush,
You ought to paint your Bruce.
To the rainbows you should rush—
You certainly won't lose.

The Bruces' Dance
by tarak06062000

Nestled in the snow,
what is that I see?
But of course, I know!
so soft and warm, only one thing it could be

Fuzzy and round, but a JubJub it is not -
neither a Fuzzle, which is too small
If i told you about their bows, tied in a neat knot,
would you know the answer after all?

Not a Cybunny, nor a Bori burrowing underneath,
something quite different, something merry
Not a Poogle, with its sharp teeth,
no, it isn't quite as scary

Here comes one! Oh, might it be two?
rhythmically tapping their feet
As they spin around amidst the icy blue,
performing their dance together, so sweet

Perhaps, by this point, you know it already,
the name of that which I speak of
Upon the ice, they remain steady,
could this be a dance of love?

Lovebirds, but not quite what you think,
gentler, softer, merrier these are
Not a Lenny nor a Pteri stands upon this rink,
even as night falls and I see the first star

It's become late now, and I wonder,
if you've figured the answer out by now?
The starlight is bright, which they dance under,
and at last they finish, with a deep bow

These creatures, or Bruces as they're known -
I gave away the answer, for that I apologize
Are dancers who can't stand being alone
rather, seek friendship under these snowy skies

And, with that, their message I carry,
would you like to join their dance?
It won't be hard - on the contrary,
I consider this a wonderful chance.

The Book of Bruce
by anjie

Merry tome of pages old,
There nestled ‘pon top shelf.
Perfect for a winter’s day,
Of reading by one’s self.
Stories there do weave the book,
Of Bruce adventures, bold.
Days of skating, idle fun,
Amongst the tales, told.

Of Bruce-kind who with bravest hearts,
Did do heroic deed.
Set out on journeys far away,
With no clue where they’d lead.
Of spiralling on frozen pond,
Or sliding down snow’s chill.
Of webbed feet climbing winter’s peak,
And clambering white hill.

Of where the Bruce do seek to go,
Of lands where snow doth fall.
For where the ice is on the ground,
To Bruce hearts realm shall call.

All in the pages of the tome,
Adventures, should you look!
Hidden deep in written word,
Within this magic book.

The Ice Bruce
by butteredwings

A glimpse upon the midnight moon,
A song carried by the wind. 
A voice that some hear in the night,
And fewer have ever seen.

His ruby form molded by light, 
Alluring, crystalline.
A satin bow around his neck, 
Completes his look so fine.
His eyes sparkle in day and night,
And glisten in falling ice.
His voice as clear as morning's sun,
Singing songs of edelweiss. 

The Bruce is one who lives within
The caves on mountains high. 
Some say that he is but a myth-
But his existence, we can't deny.
For in the times where ice and snow
Do fall upon the lands.
His song drifts down to calm them all,
With voice gentle yet grand. 

So when the night does bring the cold,
Look up and you might find:
A glimpse of ruby fur and bow, 
And hear a voice so pure and kind.

The Lovely Christmas Bruce
by indulgences

I love the Christmas Bruce so much!
It's swaddled with white fur.
Its robe is brightest crimson, and
It's cute, you must concur!

The Bruce's face is azure blue.
Its eyes are sparkling black.
Its face is pleasant, smiling, bright.
Of sweetness, there's no lack!

Its beak is curved into a smile.
A bonny bow of blue
Is tied around its lovely neck,
So charming, through and through!

I quite adore the Christmas Bruce!
It really is the best
Of every Christmas pet out there.
I love the way it's dressed!

Enjoy the holidays, my friends!
Perhaps you could create
A Christmas Bruce to love and hug...
A pet to celebrate!

Brucey B Good, or Brucey B Bad?
by steve_km

Is Brucey B good,
Or does he take more than he should?
I hear that he plays cards,
And cheats through all of the safeguards.

He doesn’t show his hand,
Which should get him banned. 
Maybe he’s just lucky, 
Cause with that coin he’s never yucky.

Does he even care for others,
Even his card playing brothers?
He doesn’t seem to share in his wealth,
Which leads to our poor mental health.

Even though he found new land,
It was never something that he planned.
It was just for all his selfish gain,
And for that I think he’s pretty lame.

When Bruces Fly
by chavo_guerrero

There is a most peculiar book,
Upon Neopia's shelves,
Called simply, 'When Bruces Fly',
And written by themselves.

Apparently it is about,
A Bruce that once took off -
And a hundred of them swear it's true,
No matter how you scoff!

I know the wings are rather small,
And a Bruce... shall I say...fat?
But really, once one flew around!
Now what do you make of that?

Imagine the surprise one day,
Of a Pteri or a Buzz,
When they're merrily soaring along,
Doing what one does,

When suddenly from nowhere,
There shot a massive bird,
Flapping hard to keep aloft,
But flying! - It's absurd!

So, see if you can find that book,
And read the story through,
Then you can make your own mind up,
On whether or not it's true!

A Dangerous Encounter
by dragonsfriend1021

One day as I traveled from Faerieland to Neopia Central,
I had an encounter that was rather consequential.
I was contemplating my troubles, on my mind they did weigh,
When he appeared: a small creature, rather blocking my way.

He seemed spry all over; he was pink head to toe,
And 'round his neck was a stately red bow.
He had all the cuteness of any Bruce baby,
But behind his eyes I thought I saw something more, maybe.

One hand held a bottle, the milk almost done,
The other, a curious futuristic ray gun.
I was not very sure whether he was friendly or hostile,
Though I watched his mouth curve into a sinister smile.

As I took in this odd sight, he opened his maw,
And out came a strange sound: "Bwahahahahaa."
The deep noise was somehow both adorable and evil,
And buried inside me stirred something primeval.

Something within that cry, a bizarre melody,
Seemed to say, "Things would be better, if up to me.
All Neopets would be forever perpetually cute,
And I would lead them all, to boot!"

I knew there was danger - that much was plain,
Barely had I time to react before he started to aim.
Some 'pets always dream of being endlessly young,
But of these 'pets, I was not one!

Just as I turned and started to run,
The Bruce started firing his unusual ray gun.
I ran left and right, disliking this weird game,
And lucky for me, the baby had terrible aim!

By my quick wits and even quicker feet,
I managed to avoid a fate some would call sweet.
For I finally recognized that Bruce was Boochi;
His ray gun transforms Neopets into Babies.

Nobody knows from whence Boochi came,
But after meeting him life is never the same.
When they cross paths, some pets rue the day
While others rejoice and shout hooray.

Neopets painted Baby live fine lives, I'm sure,
I must admit that the color has much allure.
However, for me, I'm thankful his plan did fail,
For now, I've met Boochi - and lived to tell the tale!

The Rink Runner
by azusa_k

On Terror Mountain, snowflakes fall,
Ice crystals, soft and white.
A ton of games and shops and fun,
It's truly a delight!

A beautiful stretch of the lake,
Covered in ice, cold hard.
A Bruce sets to challenge at noon,
Under judges' regard.

He wears his skates, he calms himself,
And on the ice he glides.
Collect as many music notes,
With little time to bide.

A score of twenty four is not,
His best performance yet.
He knows can he do better still,
A twenty five he'll get.

The music notes, worth most are they,
When orange turns to red.
Yet cracks on ice, must he avoid,
And holes, he does most dread.

Fifteen, sixteen, the Bruce glides past,
Just one more note to go.
Alas he skids, the red note poofs,
He looks down in sorrow.

It's time then to reveal the scores,
With bated breath, he waits.
The first two judges decide on,
A double score of eight.

The last placard displays a nine.
The crowd erupts in cheers.
How overjoyed and pleased he is,
His eyes are filled with tears.

It was his greatest, bestest day!
Hip hip hooray!
Hip hip hooray!