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EYRIE DAY SPECIAL
My Friend the Eyrie
Up there is my friend, he's within the sky,
A crimson streak against the dawning day.
Great long sweeps of his scarlet wings, his cry
Echoing across the mountains. He lands, but stay
He shall not, for he sits now with a haunch
Quivering from the strain. He has a voice
Which challenges the clouds on upon his launch
Leaving behind a whirlwind. 'Tis no choice
Whether he will stay or go. From his quest
He returns, with his ebony eyes bright
With joy. The proud curve of his feathered crest
Invigorated because of his flight.
To the horizon, on which he will dive.
To master the sky he shall always strive.
The Battle Eyrie
In days untainted by night's yore
When time was spun from golden lore
Grand tales were told, rich chords first sung
And words of valor wisely strung.
Yet from webbed myths a legend rose
Of courage vast and vanquished foes --
The screech of wings, a glint of sword
As noble heroes through skies soared.
As pathless wanderers they flew
Through spark of dusk and morning dew
When tender sun brought restful light
And rosy shafts dimmed core of night.
Through roar of tempest and shrewd gale
Past wraithlike grip and nightly veil
Oblivious to fate's firm hold --
The two together: strong and bold.
The rider with her flowing hair
With features set and graceful flair,
A creature loyal by her side
Of mighty wings and gallant stride.
His figure lean and head held high
His feathers smooth and reflex spry --
A faithful friend of wit and might
Unrivaled warrior in flight.
Their task is set, the goal is pure:
Combat evil, help good ensure --
Legacy left for those who may
Uphold such truths to very day.
Ballad of the Furniture Eyrie
A Neopet's home is his castle,
And it should be furnished with care.
The decor should reflect each pet's taste,
Whether castle, treehouse, or lair.
There are no two pets with the same taste,
But all can find what they love here.
I promise to help find what suits you,
So if you're just lost, never fear!
Perhaps your pet's taste is pure whimsy,
With beanbags and colors so bright,
With posters adorning each surface,
And lava lamps light up the night.
Or maybe your pet is more regal,
Her bed must be fit for a queen!
Only the finest materials
Will lend her room that special sheen.
If you instead long for the islands,
A tropical haven indoors,
I'll use bamboo and lush flowers
And tiki mats on all the floors.
Perhaps your pet just loves his hobbies
And only wants room to display.
I have shelving and tables galore
For his toys and sculptures of clay.
Or if what your pet craves is quiet,
A library where he can read,
I have plenty of bookshelves and chairs,
And lamps to give the light he needs.
I even sell my wares to faeries,
Who lounge upon clouds way up high.
With purples and pinks they make lovely
Their Neohomes up in the sky.
Whatever your needs or desires,
You can be sure I'm just the one
To furnish your house to perfection
And turn it into a true home!
Good Night, Lord Kass
A candle flickers,
The chamber is dim,
Reflecting evilness within.
An Eyrie paces his room and schemes,
How should he wreck this medieval realm?
With the army he had built,
Meridell would surely wilt.
But utter destruction was his goal,
A dream so villainous and bold.
He stays awake,
All through the night,
Soaking in nefarious delight.
Yet doubts are many in his mind,
The seeds of insecurity sublime:
Are there knights in Meridell
Who can fight both brave and well?
Is his armour strong enough
To withstand a quick sharp thrust?
Each doubt sinks like heavy stone,
Rippling through the Eyrie's bones.
His robes no longer keep him warm,
A hint of the impending storm.
What happens next, we all know,
Kass the traitor was disposed.
But who knew of those sleepless nights,
When he would fret by candle light?
An Eyrie and Her Treasure
Where clouds are gray and lightning strikes,
And fur is pricked up much like spikes,
Where beast be wary lest I fly,
Up into purple tinted sky.
Thunder muffles shrieks of terror;
Bolts have stricken devil darer
Hope is lost yet strength regains
What is left of my remains.
Bursts of smoke; blasts of fire,
Still I soar up higher, higher!
Whistle winds propel my wings,
Up to where the heaven sings.
Blinding light will blast me down,
Feathers dwindle, now I frown.
I rocket to the earthly ground
Searching, seeking, for that sound!
Clinking, metal, golden shine,
Now I have it; now it's mine.
Treasure sought, now it's found
Hunted by a hungry hound.
Hazel eye, glinting gold,
It will now be never sold.
Talons grasp about their wearer
I am gleeful: I'm no sharer.
Feathers scattered; fur has flown,
I have now what is my own.
Storm defeated, I'm still here,
Although I may be thought of queer.
With my treasure, I'm an Eyrie,
Never once have I been weary.
For gold I will do what I must
To see that my skills never rust.
For I exist and so I be
Always sharp, eternally.
Total Poetry Pages : 2009
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