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SCORCHIO DAY SPECIAL
The Labray Scorchio
You collected all the map peices,
And just can't wait to go.
But heed my warning when going to see,
The Labray Scorchio...
Unkept hair springs from his head,
Like wild greyish flame.
A roaring laugh, a flash of light,
And you'll never be the same...
A plastered grin, ever shifting eyes,
Survey your quivering pet.
The satisfied look on the Scorchio's face,
That you won't soon forget...
"Fluffypaws! What has he done?"
You wail on the verge of tears.
"Do not blame me," the Scorchio states,
"For you had brought him here..."
You sniff and gaze at Fluffypaws,
(If you could still call him that.)
The Labray Scorchio was right,
There was no turning back...
So taking Fluffy by the claw,
You both leave full of woe.
So heed my warning next time you see,
The Labray Scorchio...
The Scorchio's Parade
Come to the market,
A wondrous display!
The Scorchio's parade,
On Scorchio Day!
There must be thousands
Upon the main street,
Beating their wings,
And stamping their feet,
Hear them all clapping,
And hear them all cheer
For the great event
That is every year,
They're all having fun,
Such great party planners,
Those rowdy Scorchios,
Waving their banners,
Of every kind,
All out to have fun,
Relax and unwind,
Pirate and Darigan,
Silver, skunk, spotted,
The atmosphere crackles,
With such electricity,
Cloud Schorchios fly,
And breathing fire,
With timed precision,
One has to admire,
Stores are scattered,
Far up the road,
Selling Scorchio cookies,
By the truck load,
So come to the market,
Join the parade,
And join the fun!
Song of the Scorchio
As night gives way to sunlight,
It paints a sky of red,
The sun picks up a steady creep,
Slowly out of bed.
No one on the meadow's hill
But for a pet of blue,
Triumphant, proud and standing high,
Amongst the rainbow's hue.
The pet yawns with eyes ablaze,
He plods towards the sea,
And blows a flame so small yet huge
A wisp up by the lea.
The wisp of smoke was, as it seems,
Singing a haunting tune,
That slowly rose to deafening song,
To scare away the moon.
The sky is lit by now the sun,
And shines down on the shore,
There seemed to be the strangest song,
A coaxing, haunting lure.
So dancing in the sunlit beach,
The Scorchio alights,
And spreads its wings so powerful,
And gathers into flight.
He spins and twists and dives and laughs,
To a tune so far away,
As the wisp of smoke sings loud and clear,
Heard sharp along the bay.
Singing, smiling all day long,
Singing round and round,
Until the moon will rise again,
Retreat to sandy ground.
All through the night the Scorchio waits,
Face pressed again the pane,
Waiting for the songful morn,
In which he'll dance again.
Faerie Scorchio Melody
Gossamer, those fragile wings,
Such pretty shades, such flimsy things.
Caught up in breeze and spun around,
Her wings within the wind are wound.
A giggle bubbles forth from she,
The wind dies down, she's once more free.
A vision of such pastel tone,
On whirling tendrils, form is blown.
Such coral blends with turquoise bright,
And aqua wings of color bright.
With nimble grace she rises high,
Such frolicking, across the sky.
A mind consumed with nought but fun,
For those who fly do bow to none.
A wicked grin, a sweet intent,
Her motives pure, harm not meant.
She finds a cloud and thus takes aim,
And melts it with a breath of flame.
Hovering, she flutters fast,
The melted cloud does drift on past.
Its silken tendrils seem to glow,
Then with a sigh, waft down below.
Like falling snow, so soft and bright,
She'll watch them fade with such delight.
Then back and turn, to flight she springs,
The wind does rush beneath those wings.
Resplendent in the fading light,
A Scorchio in fluid flight.
A faerie creature, very fair,
Flees back to castle in the air.
Beneath the blazing Desert sun,
The weary traveler trekked
Seeking an elusive tomb
In which he could inspect.
After many hours had elapsed,
He reached his destination:
A crypt with many hieroglyphs
That required no translation.
Beguiled by the artistry
Of the tiles on the walls,
He could not hear the stream of sand
As it flooded through the halls.
When at last it became evident
That his life was in peril,
A pyramid of words he formed
Utilizing all his skill.
Ascending with his greatest might,
He struggled to prevail
Against the flowing sands of time
He felt so small; so frail.
Awoken by the dawn of light
Upon the sandy earth,
Armana knew he had triumphed
And was soon consumed by mirth.
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