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FYORA DAY SPECIAL
Remark the faerie, who ascends from her throne,
Throughout all the land
There is none better known.
Her wings shimmer awesomely in the dim sun,
As she is adored and revered by each one
Of the fans and worshippers
Who follow in succession
As she flies to the Fountain,
To begin her procession.
"Hurrah!!!" cheer the onlookers,
Awaiting this keenly
For Her Majesty to arrive; the one most queenly.
Her graceful air makes her one most loved,
As important as Neopia's sun high above.
When the parade begins, the faeries applaud
And make way for their Queen;
The one who's most awed.
Her dress cascades out in billows of silk,
Her hair's full and glimmering; almost like milk.
Her crown, affixed to her head stands out proud
With as many bright jewels
As the space would allow.
She waves to her admirers, shouting her praise:
"Good fortune to all, and happy Fyora Day!!"
A Song for Fyora
In Faerie City there is a Queen,
With purple garb and regal sheen,
In a tower she guards her treasures,
Those artifacts, so rare and precious,
Fyora is she, our Faerie Queen.
Faerieland is the place to be,
If magic and wonder you should seek,
On fluffy clouds, peace is reigning,
Thanks to her rule so masterly,
For Fyora is always watching.
Be not afraid when in harm's way,
Or facing a threat to a tranquil day,
The Queen is there, like a dazzling ray,
Her powers keep evilness at bay,
A royal guardian is Fyora, to us.
How can we thank her,
This benevolent Queen,
For working so tirelessly,
Running Faerieland efficiently?
Fyora, Fyora, this day is yours.
Queen of the Faeries
Before the moon rose
Silver in the sky,
Before the dew sprung
Of the land's first dawn,
Before grass grew
With chlorophyllen dye
The faeries danced and
Sang their new-life song.
The fire faeries
Set the flames to blaze,
The water faeries
Hummed the swirl of tides,
The air faeries
At new-born stars did gaze,
But among their crowds
Royalty did rise.
Her skin, color of
Lilac touched by dawn;
Her eyes, with all the
Wisdom of the world;
Fyora rose and
Sang her queenly song,
To rule until the
Ending of the world.
"Please, my teacher, do pray tell
Where rings so sweetly those sounds of bells?"
They are the faeries, each in song,
Voices clear as those bell's tongs.
"Then enlighten, master wise,
What are those lights that bless my eyes?"
Light faeries, fairest of all,
To which all evil is appalled.
"Do speak again, and now this time
Why dead leaves blossom, green as lime?"
To earth faeries praise be given,
They made these withered plants reliven.
"Can you too feel the sudden heat
That warms us from our head to feet?"
Fire faeries, their powers great,
To this comfort do relate.
"Oh, what is that fair ocean breeze
Not cold enought to make me sneeze?"
The air faeries give us this
For it is their magic, this chilly bliss.
"Why, the rain! It soaks us not,
Sweet as honey from our pot!"
Water faeries in the sea,
The source of this little mystery.
"Why then do these faeries all
Make all these blessings fall?"
Better than even the giving sleigh
Is the joy of Fyora Day.
In Faerieland, a tower high
Lies hidden in the clouds so white,
And faeries to this tower fly,
To see the Queen by day or night.
All clothed in yellow sunshine's rays,
Light faeries pledge to serve their queen.
For she has kind and gentle ways;
She judges wisely with wits keen.
The faeries green who love the earth
Have vowed the Faerie Queen to heed.
Fyora's rippling laugh and mirth
Have caused full plants to spring from seed.
The joyous faeries of the air
To sing their ruler's praises vie,
For while some rulers nothing dare,
Their queen will dance with them on high.
Though fire faeries all alight
Won't bow before a Prince or King,
Fyora, with her gentle might,
Has fired their hearts her praise to sing.
In oceans deep of water cold,
The faeries swim and sing and sway.
"Fyora's heart is made of gold,
Our queen we'll follow every day!"
And even where no light can shine,
When evil creeps and faeries sneer,
Fyora's name keeps them in line:
All darkness faeries their queen fear.
In Faerieland, a tower high
Lies hidden in a cloud of mist.
Fyora, ruler of the sky,
Is making sure Good will persist.
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