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MOEHOG DAY SPECIAL
The Moehog Healing Root
Lifting with his cloven hoof,
He garnered it so close.
And taking one humongous chomp,
He swallowed the potent dose!
He chewed and gnawed with great pain,
Then suddenly he began to glow!
He swallowed the herby, potent root,
And stood up quite slow.
Suddenly his vigor returned,
And he strode with pride!
Charging swiftly with utmost strength,
He changed the battle's tide!
What is your secret, dear Moehog?
Will you tell me please?
What is this mystic thing you use,
To win your fights with ease?
He snorted for a moment,
Then he leaned in near.
He brandished his magic tuber
Then whispered in my ear.
"Oh child, 'tis the mystic root,
Grown by wise Moehogs past,
That gives us limitless strength
And the will to last!"
The Moehog hag you dare not hug:
Morguss! In Darigan's lair
Has every reason to be smug.
Her power would curl your hair.
Her secret strength is not yet found
Morguss! Of sorcerous might.
On enemies she's showered down
A Nova storm of dark light.
She's led two rulers to the Three
Morguss! To her it's a game.
Her shadow-master-servants she
Has fed on Darigan's shame.
Her daughter dances potent spells
Morguss! Her child is a tool
For trance-enchanting foes until
Their king and court play the fool.
Survivor she, at least so far --
Morguss! She's more tricks about.
The eminence gris of rising stars...
But her time may be running out.
Clop The Quirky Moehog
I have a funny story
And I really have to tell ya,
It's a story 'bout a Moehog,
He's a quirky little fella.
The other day I met him,
And I beat him at Cellblock.
I asked him how he liked the game,
And he only answered "clop".
Now, "clop" he even did not say,
I doubt that he could sound it.
He only placed his hoof to ground,
And proceeded to just pound it.
"What?" I say, "What do you want?
Can't you say a word?"
But once again, he stomped his hoof;
I didn't think he'd heard.
But heard me, yes, I learned he did,
For I spoke to all his friends,
And I learned he taps his hooves for words,
Though it seems that he pretends.
One clop means yes, and two means no,
And three they think means "food".
It's good, I think, they know him well,
Or else they'd think he's rude.
With bright blue hair, and dark red eyes,
He's quite the character, you see.
So I didn't mind leaving the Citadel,
One game's enough for me.
In the dark corner of a ritzy club,
With others, sat one shady pet.
Cards were askew in all the hubbub
As he shuffled them back into deck.
Two hooves so swift
The cards would almost fly
Into the air as he'd deal.
The way he glanced around looked oh so sly
You'd think he wasn't for real.
But of course, the game he plays is Cheat!,
So you'd never suspect he was truthful.
Yet those concealed thoughts seem so obsolete,
For his appearance is quite youthful.
In that suave suit hued in black and white
And pert little bow tie,
With his hair slicked chic -- he's quite a sight,
You'd never think he would lie.
But he decieves even the creamiest of the crop
And never gets caught, to boot.
So don't be surprised when your wallet goes flop
After he wins all your loot!
A Moehog's Story
Up the mountain the Moehog goes
When he'll stop, nobody knows.
He's up at dawn and works till dusk
Carrying things on his tusks.
He hauls everything the Skeith must eat
Apples, cheese, fruit and meat.
He works harder than most and never stops
Some say works until he drops.
The lazy Skeith will not budge
"MORE FOOD!" he yells.
"MORE JUICE, MORE FUDGE!"
And the Moehog keeps hauling and working
Never does he dare be caught shirking.
But secretly inside he's angry and mad
And if he could stop working he would be glad.
He would like to make that Skeith work instead
While he got everything he wanted to be fed.
So finally he hatched a plan
To not have to work for that lazy old man.
And he just didn't show up for work one day
But that old Skeith would just sit and lay.
He was too lazy to do anything about it
So on top of his moutain he continued to sit.
Meanwhile, many miles away,
A new Moehog village
Had been founded that day.
There were places to live, things to do
And everything about this race was true.
Which is why we celebrate on this day
A new breed, a new species, a new Neopian way!
Total Poetry Pages : 1891
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