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Nobody knows where he came from
Or what he is looking for.
Theories are known, but here lies his truth.
This mummy's story, we do explore:
Pureed Neggs with curried samosas,
Is what Mystery Island's chef is making.
"Pyramibread is needed! Oh what a treat!
The Lost Desert has that, all for the taking!"
He searched the marketplace,
And he searched the food stall.
No pyramibread to be seen,
He saw a small hut by the pyramid, he did recall.
He went to the hut,
And gave a good knock.
A hooded figure emerged,
And our hero received quite a shock.
For this hooded figure
Was helpful to our quest.
He had some pyramibread,
Fyora must have him blessed.
"Follow me into my hut,
And what you do seek, receive you will."
And so he followed, and much to his horror.
His request, was not there to fulfill.
Upon entry to that hut,
Our hero was not seen again.
With his quest left undone,
He disappeared from here then.
To this day, he searches for his quest item.
As the Scorchio Mummy, to the pyramid,
He is condemned.
The Unhappy Family
There was a family unlike any you've known
A family of Scorchios all cast from stone,
At dinnertime they sit at their table of steel
And complain, moan, and whine about their meal.
Father Scorchio chews his food
While gripping his knee,
And watches Brother Scorchio stare
At his food unhappily,
Mother Scorchio's eyes seem so far away,
But little Sister Scorchio asks
Of her brother's day.
"I stubbed my toe on the door,
And got a bad grade,
Then I failed an important quest
At Illusen's Glade,"
Brother Scorchio says with a watery eye,
And his little sister apologizes with a short sigh.
"Well, my day hadn't much of a chance,"
Says the Scorchio's father with a weary glance.
"I lost my lucky necklace on my way out the door
And when I got home, my luck was no more."
Mother Scorchio nods
And looks up from her plate
And says to her family,
"Well, at least we can relate."
With a sad smile,
She explains her day at the bank,
And how a ghost stole 100 NPs
From her as a cruel prank.
Now Sister Scorchio let out the smallest squeak
And said, "Well, my day was very unique!
I was in the garden looking at the fresh fruit
When I saw something so bright and so cute!"
Her family looked at her and gave her the sign.
"Well, I found my own patch
Of happy and sunshine!"
She giggled a bit,
And revealed her cupped hands,
Then showed her family the long,
All around the table,
The Scorchios felt warm
As they looked into the happiness
In its true form,
They felt a funny feeling,
One that started deep inside
A sensation the Scorchio family
Simply couldn't hide.
This happiness she found,
Was the key to her heart.
And when she poured her love out,
Their sadness fell apart.
So, because Sister Scorchio
Shared her sunshine all around
Her family's troubled life
Was suddenly turned upside down.
This book is usually hidden
From curious prying eyes
For a very good reason,
Read on and don't ask why.
On a random flimsy page,
Below a fiery picture
Lies a verse faded with age,
An old tongue twisting torture:
"Sketch Scorchio chases Skarrl
Around skunk Scorchio's cheese,
Schooling Scorchio, choppy voice,
Chatter, chirping with ease."
Many Neopets tire out
With sputtering dismay
By reading it aloud and fast,
But temptation is too great.
Only those with fiery breath
And crest upon their head,
Pass well when put to the test
Of Scorchio language play!
Rolling hills of lush green grass
Spread beneath sparkling sun;
Fertile, blowing gently, slowly,
Under eye of watchful warden.
Long forgot, his solemn form,
Silhouetted against the dusk,
Guards each trembling blade of grass,
Each sprout, each shoot, each corn-husk.
Come Pteri or thieving Ixi-goat
To graze or peck his charge,
The dutiful Scarescorchio
Frightens both small and large.
Though loyal guard ne'er leaves his post,
Though his fields roll and wave safely,
The scary Scorchio on post of wood
Wishes fearsome need not be lonely.
For who could befriend a creature,
Rooted like his crops in place,
Whose job it is to scare away
Those who gaze upon his face?
Today is Scorchio Day,
Join the celebration;
All who want a Scorchio,
Pick one up for adoption.
They like to use scorchstones,
When they're in battle;
If it's a baby Scorchio you have,
You should buy them a rattle.
They like to fly,
And to be warm;
You can paint them different colors,
Even change their form.
Once you get one,
You'll never want to part;
Even when they're sad,
They'll always warm your heart.
Total Poetry Pages : 1971
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