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Springtime In Neopia
The triumph over winter's freeze
Bears fruit of rain and daffodils
A feast for newborn Buzzer bees
Lavish nectared petal showers
Waves of gold in emerald seas
Dreamy, nodding with the breeze
Sunkissed warmth unfolds the leaves
The apple blossoms open white
Where lacy willows sing of light
Pteris drowse on flowered limbs
Laden thick with perfumed blooms
In downy nests amidst the dim
Bluebells bursting out in throngs
Like efflorescent carillons
Among the daisy-dotted fields
Aishas, Xweetoks, Unis sleek
All dewy paws and flaring manes
As Neopets play hide and seek
A jubilee of vibrant greens
It's Springtime in Neopia
The loveliest of scenes
A Werelupe fey through midnight crept
--His jaws agape and claws a-gleaming--
And deep into the shadows kept,
Until he took on harmless seeming
And yellow Lupe to footpath leapt.
A tiny village, happy, gay;
From windows, warm lights paint the snow--
Here streetlamps shine in mock of day
And to the night grant homey glow.
But oh! With heavy pacing tread
From up the winding rutted trail
A trav'ler raises yellow head
And perks up yellow, flagging tail;
But more still lurks behind those eyes
A hunger greater than for wheat;
His pelt of yellow? Knit of lies--
This Werelupe's stomach growls for... meat!
The children laugh, the babies cry,
The Neopets strain at morning chores,
The owners shush as fritters fry,
Neohomes open wide their doors.
But half the town sleeps in that morn
The windows silent, dark, forlorn,
The chores undone, the ovens cold;
Petpets all mute though dawn gleams gold.
--But no one speaks or says a thing,
Their laughter rings through hill and dale--
Though the prints in snow they're skirting,
(Oh yes skirting, widely skirting)
Averting eyes with faces pale.
I Saw the First Slorg Fly
Yes, Slorgs are a Petpet detested by all,
So icky and drippy with slime,
Yet few know the truest dream of the Slorg,
Ever since pre-historic time;
They may appear humblest creatures,
They never ask, "How?", "What?", or "Why?"
Yet this, my dear child, is the truest of truths:
A Slorg's greatest wish... is to fly.
Oh, to swoop and to loop
In that great blue expanse
Makes a Slorg go all giddy with glee,
To do loopety-loops and to flip and to flap;
Oh, if only a Slorg could be free!
So one day, unseen, I sneaked out and away,
Unnoticed by family and friend,
With faerie Petpet brush I made my way
Till I reached the Slorg's slimy den.
I left it out front, then scampered away,
To hide behind a cheops bush,
For a while, no movement,
No sound came my way,
But the grass sway and wind's soft woosh...
Then, out from the shadows,
(I could not believe!)
A Slorg came upon my small gift.
I could hardly believe it when after the change,
I saw that little Slorg lift!
With a squeal and a chuckle, he flittered away,
And it brought a tear to my eye;
He turned and he winked
And then went on his way...
Yes, I saw the first Slorg fly.
One Lonely Kougra
Spirits of pale mountains roar
Echoing into these ears
The skill from ancestors before
Isolating me for years
My gift and curse is contemplation
Ability to see beyond
In form of haiku generation
Of my thoughts many are fond
Shrouded by volcano smoke
I give my lines to any stranger
My duties are not a joke
Often I keep some from anger
Golden eyes reflecting sunlight
Painted markings head to toe
Colored fabrics drape me brightly
My shrewd stare shows all I know
Although I like some passersby
Just a small few is all I need
Within my hut is where you'll lie
While three verses to you I'll read
So next time you visit the jungle
Remember where I'll be
And if you're in need of a haiku
You'll know to come visit me
Cancelled due to Lack of Interest
I was cancelled due to lack of interest;
Scrapped for want of time.
Deserted and left anonymous;
Snubbed by the more sublime.
I was cancelled for insignificance;
Destroyed 'cus no one cared.
My past glory only a memory,
Of good times we've all shared.
I was cancelled for irrelevance;
For becoming obsolete.
Shoved harshly out of the spotlight,
Becoming bitter from the sweet.
I was cancelled 'cus they hate me,
I was cancelled 'cus I stank.
Now when you see me on the calendar,
I'm nothing but a blank.
I'm just a waste of everyone's time,
That's why they gave me the sack.
I was made to attract more interest, but sadly...
The interest is all I lack!
Total Poetry Pages : 1960
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