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NIMMO DAY SPECIAL
Sssidney the Scratchcard Salesman
When venturing in the Haunted Woods,
To seek all sorts of thrills.
It's safe to say, there's one more place,
That gives your bones the chills.
Deserted Fairground stands alone,
All empty like its name.
Though one old soul you'll always find,
His legend shot to fame.
A Nimmo tall and hunchbacked,
Stands beside the rusty gate.
He gestures you over with a wink,
And tells you there's no wait.
"A scratchcard for you, kind sir?" he asks,
"I assure you they're not fake."
You ask his name and he replies,
"Sssidney - like a snake."
Reluctantly, your coins are traded,
And Sssidney gives you a sly smile.
"No hurry now, just scratch your card,
And stay and chat a while."
You sit and talk with Nimmo old,
As you scratch off every square.
And wonder how on earth it seemed,
Sssidney ended up being there.
Though Sssidney slumps and gives a sigh,
He says he loves the woods.
So if you are in town one day,
Test your luck with Sssidney's goods!
The Day of a Nimmo
As the sun rises from the horizon,
The grey pets begin their sighing.
But no fear,
There are Nimmos here!
They'd rather not whine or fray.
Instead they'd rather play!
Jumping on the lily pads,
A Nimmo is never sad.
He catches flies,
He never cries,
And then when it is night
The sun sheds its last light,
The Nimmo falls asleep
While he silently counts Baabaa.
Let the Nimmo sleep in peace,
Dreaming of waters that are knee deep.
Ice Beneath the Pond
Stretching out in idle ways,
Delight so held in glossy gaze.
The water parts past each long limb,
So peaceful seems this morning swim.
Careless does he dart and trace,
Content the smile, held in place.
Emerald leaves do float and drift,
He darts between them, sure and swift.
A glassy vision he doth seem,
A frozen shimmer, glossy sheen.
Glacial, his stretching form,
An icy dance he does perform.
The Nimmo formed of solid ice,
Through pond's soft waters, fast does slice.
Sunlight casts its silken glow,
Reflected off his form below.
Like liquid comfort water soothes,
A soft surrounding as he moves.
His state in its most primal form,
Ice and water, cold and warm.
A glistening trail left in wake,
As glossy freeze doth pond soon take.
Nimmo's body light and sheer,
In springtime he brings winter here.
The lilies pink do glaze so fast,
A frost memory, he sweeps past.
He drifts beneath the waves beyond,
He lives as Ice, beneath the pond.
Into the Battledome the Nimmo crept.
For almost a whole week he had not slept.
Trembling with fright he approached the ring.
Not sure what the next few minutes would bring.
A great looming figure was just ahead.
Filling the small frightened Nimmo with dread.
Firing his grand lightning beam at it
He saw that his opponent had been hit.
With newfound courage he attacked some more
Blasting his opponent until he tore.
The Nimmo had won the battle at last.
Bright lights came on and his smile faded fast.
His opponent had not been a great beast
Nor was it like one in the very least.
The defeated one was poor Punchbag Bob.
"Oh well," he sighed, "at least I did the job."
Glimpse of the Baby Nimmo
Below the water's surface; such clear silver
Amongst the reeds that begin to wilter
A tiny little Nimmo swims
With such beauty and grace
Rippling the surface like silken lace
A flick of his tail shows such serenity
Showing turquoise fins with such pride and glee
A stream-lined body with gleaming skin
Such a treasurable creature, a dazzling whim
Flicking his glistening body in a beautiful manner
Showing all off: pride and glamour
Silken tail and gleaming fins
His daily dance of pride begins
Swerving through the pink-tinged lily roots
Such a dazzling sensation like tropical fruits
Twisting and turning with emotion and life
A colourful pantomime;
Much confidence and strife
All who see such a creature serene
Are wanting to see a repeat of such dream
Though the baby knows what envy he yields
To the tropical waters he's solemnly healed
Total Poetry Pages : 1971
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