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LUPE DAY SPECIAL
The Odd Lupe
A Lupe is proud and noble;
At least that's what the flyer said,
But the Lupe that I got stuck with
Is a different one instead.
He's more cowardly than noble,
And a narcissist he's not;
He's the opposite of proud,
And quite content with what he's got.
Most other Lupes I know
Are painted and courageous,
But not my Lupe, oh no!
He'd rather be green, not ostentatious.
He's plain and dull and humble,
And he doesn't howl, but rather chirps,
Although I suppose that in the long run,
That could be one of his perks!
Even so, it would be nice
To own a Lupe that fits the mold;
My own Lupe is abnormal,
At least, that's what I'm told.
He doesn't chase after Chias,
He'd rather read than run outside,
He insists that self-admiration
Is vanity, not pride.
No, of all the things my pet is,
A conventional Lupe doesn't apply,
But even though he's a bit of an oddball,
I'm still glad that he's mine.
Immortal Skunk Lupe
I am darkness; I am light.
I am found beyond your sight.
When rain ascends and hot air falls,
And nothing speaks of naught but all,
Then I will come, to your call.
I am truth; I am lies.
Blindness sees, though not through eyes.
When stars cascade into the moon,
And sun will not rise come high noon,
You will then see me soon.
My coat is pitch, save a stripe,
Flowing down my back like pipe.
When tricks of fire cease to amaze,
And all your homes are set ablaze,
I will be there within days.
Fleeting glances catch my blur,
Speeding through the brush so sure.
Blink again and I am gone.
I will never be your pawn.
And yet I'm found back by dawn.
Dust is kicked way up so high,
Rain will never pass it by.
My light may pierce its murky glow,
My dark will only help it so.
And yet no one will ever know.
I am swift and leave no trail.
I've seen faces, long and pale.
When you arose, I was here,
Sitting on a lonely pier.
Your demise is all so near.
Balthazar -- Bounty Hunter
There's one Lupe on the prowl
Who gives the rest a bad name,
He's gruff and he's growly,
And perhaps not quite sane.
There's very good reason
For thinking him scary,
But no need to run from him,
That is, unless you're a faerie.
On dark nights he stalks them,
With his jars and his net,
Saying, "There are no free faeries,
Just ones I've not caught yet!"
He'll hide in the bushes,
And watch their flickering lights,
Then catch them all unwary,
Before they can take flight!
Then each delicate creature
Is sealed tight in a jar,
And sold for a huge profit
At the Neopian Bazaar.
So if you've bought a faerie,
Please release her from the jar,
And warn her, on dark nights,
To beware of Balthazar!
Meeting Of The Lupes
The moon was just rising,
You stepped out in full;
Pale light drenched your blue coat.
And your howl,
Oh, your howl,
It pierced the night
Like a blade ripping through the silence.
The birds in the tree flew,
The Lupes gathered
To howl on and on while the white circle shone.
Their monthly event,
As the white circle died,
And the yellow one came,
Footsteps of the Lupes filled the woods.
And the birds returned
To sing at dawn,
The woods were filled
With the footsteps of the Lupes,
Until next month,
Until the white circle shone.
Hear; hear a call in the night,
At the absence of all light
But the glimmering moon so high,
A perfect circle in the sky.
'Tis a howl, an echoing sound,
Striking fear in those around,
The sharp cry of a Werelupe now
Splits the air and shakes the ground.
Venture not into the woods
On this night so eerily cool,
For this, none has dared to do:
Face the Werelupe everyone knew.
He wasn't born with huge big paws,
Razor fangs and sharp black claws;
He had a small and weakly jaw,
Back in the days forever lost.
'Twas a gloomy dusk like this
That got him lost in shadowy mist,
Too weak to run or to resist,
Soon bitten with a vicious hiss.
And from then on, it began,
Transformed, he left our native land,
With broken heart never to mend,
In protection of his dearest friends.
Total Poetry Pages : 1971
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