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Skeith Day Special!
The Baby Skeith is Oh So Sweet
The Baby Skeith, adorable,
Is very sweet and colorful!
Its hues so light and gentle bring
Delight which makes me want to sing.
The skin, a blend of red and rose,
Is soft and soothing, I suppose.
The lovely color, so divine,
Is one I'd like to wear as mine.
The plush pajamas make my day!
They flatter Skeiths in every way.
The moons and stars are whimsical!
They're magical and never dull.
So, if your dragon needs a new
Impressive and amazing hue,
A baby brush will overjoy.
The color is so cute and coy.
The Honest Tax Collector
When the tax man comes, Altadorians need not fear,
The Angry Tax Beast won't be found here!
Gordos the Skeith never swindles or lies,
The trust of the townspeople is his preferred prize.
When the books are cooked, Gordos will sniff it out,
This Skeith's morals are never in doubt!
He ensures the townspeople get what they pay for,
His rates are precise: nothing less, nothing more.
His honesty earned him a place on the council,
For finances, King Altador wanted no scoundrel.
In the realm of Altador, only the most honest will do,
And Gordos's heart was caring and true.
When dealing with money, greed is the standard,
The Skeith Collector's virtue is his candor.
To Gordos, whom the citizens happily pay,
We wish you a very Happy Skeith Day!
Skeith without teeth
You see that guy?
He's a Skeith.
He's lived his whole life,
With no teeth!
Everyone makes fun of him,
They're all so mean,
Doesn't let it get under his skin,
because he only eats ice cream!
Hanging out with his friends,
They're all playing a game,
He looks around and grins,
he realizes he's not the same!
He likes to be different,
He's so unique,
With a little bit of an accent,
That sounds funny when he speaks!
The morale of the story,
No one is alike,
Be whoever you want to be,
And that's alright!
Today the flags are waving for all and every Skeith
They are known for strength, from their tails until their teeth
Skeith are found from wild mountains to the heath
Their temper goes from jolly, but they can also seethe
Their wings are small, and it is sure a wonder
That they actually can fly, and that without a blunder
Skeiths work hard, you can surely hear the thunder
And they won't say no to any shiny plunder
Skeiths are smart, but they are also lazy
To do more than necessary, is in their minds crazy
Love to spend a day in a field with grass and daisies
Days go by, with joy and comfort and are hazy
To take what life offers, is what Skeiths do best
They sure can work, and also really love to rest
They like to place their plunders in their cozy nests
That is when you see their really Skeith-ish zest
The Brothers Skeith
Why is it, of the royal Skeith brothers,
Hagan is deemed wiser by the others?
Snobbery can't win!
The green king's stingy with his biscuit horde
And just as likely to complain you've bored.
Skarl knows wisdom comes not in neat packets
Handed out by the highest tax brackets.
The blue king's not so vain he dyes his hair
To falsely keep his moustachio fair.
Just to clarify:
This poem isn't by
He whose pleb, er, people's moods are brighter,
But an impartial Ghost(-painted)writer.
Snargan: A Sneaky Skeith
While out one day for a pleasant stroll,
A gravely voice calls out to you
"Hey, you over there, fancy a gamble?"
You look around, confused, wondering what to do.
Then you spot him, a sketchy green Skeith
Shadows obscuring his face.
"Fancy a game of chance?" he asks,
You shrug; feeling a bit out of place.
He presses you a bit more
Until you eventually cave in.
He rubs his hands together eagerly,
And then the game begins.
"The King better not find me
Gambling with his money,"
The Skeith mutters under his breath.
You study his face; is he trying to be funny?
You flip the coin a few times;
And your luck holds time and again.
But sadly, the next one is tails,
And your winning streak comes to an end.
Snargan grins and rakes in his winnings
As you dejectedly turn away.
That sneaky Skeith treasurer
Won money to gamble for another day..
Gordos the Skeith
Gordos, noble and fair,
Skeith of integrity,
Full of sincerity.
A collector of taxes,
Quite the judicious job,
To persuade the masses,
And prevent an angry mob.
His deeds were not unseen,
King Altador will tell,
Never one to demean,
Wishing others well.
You may chance upon Gordos,
As he travels the land,
Gifting rare stamps to those,
Who deserve a helping hand.
In the Jelly Processing Plant resides
A disposal superior to machinery
Known only to the workers by title:
A hungry Skeith, an insatiable beast.
His appetite is second to none,
Cravings of salty and sweet.
With his bib on ready for work,
All conveyors lead to the Skeith.
Though intimidating in stature,
The roars don’t come from himself.
The rumbling that tremors inside
Is his belly letting out a yell.
Skeiths are stereotyped gluttons,
But this isn’t always the case.
Hungry Skeith simply does his job:
The disposal of leftovers and cakes!
The Conceited Transparent Skeith
Arconte is a cold, evil looking Skeith
That you wouldn't like to meet by night.
His empty eye-sockets can scare
Anyone who looks at him, I swear!
He likes to be a mist-shrouded shape
Rolled up in a big, warm, black cape;
So that if you meet him in a dark street
Your heart will skip at least one beat.
A transparent skin and a skeletal snout
Will make you scream with no doubts!
But if you look deeper, you will note
He wears fine clothes under the coat.
He likes refined shirts and jackets,
Elegant waistcoats and silky ascots.
This Skeith often wears a black top hat
Acting like if he was a known aristocrat.
He never leaves home without his cane,
And polished shoes, he certainly is vain!
For a heartfelt compliment, he would die
But please, please remember not to lie.
So, if you happen to meet him just try
To avoid his orbits and make a smile.
He will certainly stick his chest out
Thinking he's a Skeith who stands out.
Total Poetry Pages : 2393
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