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WOCKY DAY SPECIAL
Oh, Wockies of Neopia,
Join in the celebration.
Start packing camping bags,
Start adventurous conversation.
This Wocky dedication
Is for Wockies all around,
From the Wockies in the sky,
To the Wockies on the ground.
First of all, there's Danner,
Who was loyal, brave and true.
He followed knight Jeran
The whole Meridell War through.
Next up for dedication
Is the Scratchcard Kiosk clerk.
We would have no scratchcards
If he wasn't hard at work!
Thirdly, Shelly "Shivers"
Earns a special little verse,
Tolerating brother's taunts,
She was brave; he turned out worse!
Now a saber-toothed stranger:
The mysterious Tyrannian Wocky.
Unidentified as yet,
To learn about him you are lucky.
And finally, my little Wocky:
Daredevil is her name.
And is she one spunky dame!
I conclude this dedication
Saying: Fyora, bless all Wockies.
All of you who own these Neopets
Are real lucky duckies!
Atop a grassy hilltop,
A Wocky stands alone,
Shivering with cold and fear,
Long miles from her home.
She stares down at the battlefield,
And can't suppress a gasp.
It's worse than she suspected,
A wounded, beaten mass.
She wants to run, but in her heart,
She knows that she must stay.
She is sorely needed here,
On this dark and dismal day.
Among the soldiers lying there,
She spies one that she knows.
A few short leaps, and she is there.
Her eyelids flutter closed.
Frika lifts one pink paw and gently
Touches the gash on his leg.
Onlookers can only stare
As the wondrous healing takes place.
When she meets her brother's eyes,
A smile lights up her face.
No longer afraid, the healer stands,
Ready to take her place.
Now when the army of Meridell marches,
They know they need not fear,
For through the shouts and clash of swords,
Frika will be there.
Magax: The Shadow Angel
Everything must come with its price,
Fate easily changing at the roll of the dice.
It was a lesson that you learned centuries ago,
Back when you were one
Of Neopia's most wanted foes.
The faintest shred of light
Flickered within your blackened heart,
Slowly mustering the strength
To make all your inner evil depart.
Haunted by the sorrowful tears
You caused to be cried,
Plagued by the lingering ghosts
Of those who, by your hand, were destroyed,
You drift through the graveyard,
Fending off any hint of danger
That, to the scar you wear,
Is certainly no stranger.
The shadow angel seeking redemption
For a list of sins so long,
Tonight now begins your new dawn.
Danner of Meridell
Danner of Meridell! Sturdy and brave,
Somewhere between being knight or knave.
Faithful and true to his leader he'll stay,
Though there come danger
Or death or what may.
Paler than Jeran, true-blue all the same,
Give him a sword, and he's true with his aim.
Is he the best in the land of his birth?
Perhaps not in strength or in bulk or in girth.
Still, when the blight and the war led to death,
He pulled his belt tight and fought for the earth.
When comes the time to in battle go forth,
No one who's fought with him
Can doubt his worth.
Danner of Meridell knows whom he's for;
Only to these will his loyalty pour:
Meridell, Skarl, his commander, it's sure,
Under Sir Borodere, trust comes in pure.
"Follow you down to Jhudora's front door..."
He said it; he meant it; he'd do that and more.
A Winter Walk
The Wocky went walking
In a white winter wood,
Well bundled -- wool muffler,
Plus mittens and hood.
The wood was so quiet,
And none could dare talk,
As the little white Wocky,
She went on her walk.
The Day of Giving, she knew,
Was swiftly approaching.
Some worries encroaching
Under the warm woolen hood.
So walking, she wondered
If deep down, deep under,
This year she had honestly,
Really been good.
Just then with a thump,
Direct hit on the rump,
A snowball came flying,
And it left a big lump.
The Wocky, she wailed,
And she cried and she bawled.
'Til out from the bushes
A little voice called.
A prickly Wreathy came from the brush,
And said, "Oh, dear, what did I do?
I was in such a rush --
I didn't aim, I just threw!
Fair's fair, to make up
For that dreadful display...
You can snowball me back,
And then we'll be on our way!"
So the Wocky, she scooped up
Her paws full of snow,
And packed it together
As tight as it'd go.
She glared at the Wreathy,
As the winter wind blew...
But at the back of her mind,
Another thought grew.
The wood it went hushed,
Once again all was still,
And the Wocky, she whispered,
While winter wind rushed,
"It's okay, Mr. Wreathy,
For I've barely been touched."
So she set down her snow,
As he waddled away,
And the Wocky, she went
Back, to her home's hearth to stay,
But she knew she'd been good --
At least... for one day.
Total Poetry Pages : 1972
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