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Sophie's Simmering Stew
Bubbling mud and rising steam,
The swamp, a humid pit.
Here and there sprout tufts of grass,
Where dank ground will permit.
In the midst of all this mess,
So stands a tiny hut.
Door on crooked angle slants,
Its windows boarded shut.
The home of Sophie, Ixi Witch,
She's mad, the stories claim.
Surrounded by this stinking realm,
It's "Sophie's Swamp," by name.
With Meowclops does she live,
They lurk outside the door.
Whining loudly as she chants,
And casts spells quite galore!
In the boiling, bubbling pot,
Do potions simmer, soft.
Casting shapes on mouldy walls,
With smoke that drifts aloft.
And Sophie only laughs out loud,
And brews a potion, rare.
They say that when it comes to minds,
That Sophie's not "all there."
She hunches over swirling mix,
So cackling, stirs her brew.
It's better not to even know,
What goes in Sophie's Stew.
An evil plot is afoot tonight,
A mischevious booby-trapping spree.
And I am dressed in black ninja stealth,
Because the perpetrator of these deeds is me!
My aim in these most contemptible acts,
Is quite easy to explain.
There are minor annoyances
That need to be fixed,
So that peace and prosperity are regained.
My first stop then, on this still dark night,
Is the fairground on Haunted Woods soil.
As I sneak through the trees,
I get down on my knees,
And give that Test Your Strength
Machine some oil!
Now on to the scholarly land of Brightvale.
On my second brave mission I embark.
I throw a wrench in the old Wheel of Knowledge,
And deactivate that dreaded question mark!
From here it's a quick jog to Meridell,
Home of the Grumpy Old King.
With my feather at hand, I tickle that man,
Go ahead, tell your joke, he'll be laughing!
Onward I trudge toward Terror Mountain,
Where the Snowager waits to attack.
Then I slip him a bag full of avatars,
It's the one treasure, it seems, that he lacks!
For my final dark deed it's Krawk Island,
Where the Bilge Dice players are all still awake.
They drink up my grog, til they fall off their log,
Ten in a row? Not a problem! Piece of cake!
When you wake up from sleep tomorrow morning,
You'll find Neopia's a much nicer place.
And from now on,
My dear friends and loved ones,
Think of me when the King laughs in your face!
Ode to a Ghostkersandwich
Ghostkersandwich makes good grub
It gets me feeling great!
The cress, chokato, cheese, and slime
With green garnish on my plate
Such grandeur is a ghostkersandwich
The ghostly face grins up at me
And I grip it tightly in my gloves
Munch it down in greedy gulps
Before it vanishes on me!
I splash it with a splime smoothie
Oh, the spinach-citrus zest!
When it comes to selecting a savory lunch
Ghostkersandwich is the best
The lunch break ends, this Lenny sighs
Too soon it has to go!
I hadn't even time to check
And see if there was more.
Oh, the grainy texture
Of the ghosterkersandwich bread
Gets this grumpy mutant Lenny
Back to work and glad instead!
Dance of the Meepits
You hear sounds in the distance,
You shiver cold with fear,
You're in the Haunted Woods at night,
It's a scary thing to hear.
You stumble into a clearing,
A fire comes to life and flickers,
And in that light the fire sheds,
A little Meepit snickers,
And suddenly you see a hundred of them,
The ghosts are everywhere,
How unfortunate you were, my friend,
It is so very rare,
To see the Dance of the Meepits,
I told you to beware.
There is no place more tranquil than this,
Lost in the depths of the Maraquan Abyss.
Weaving through a blanket of starry sea fern,
The undersea haven for which
All Maraquans yearn.
Plunging through forests of shimmery seagrass,
Exploring a sea world so lovely and vast.
Primella and Pepito swim gracefully along,
While Peophins dance mystically
To Leebles' sweet song.
Flotsam and Walein move
Through the waters with ease,
As Felly float aimlessly wherever they please.
Filamen light up the aquatic zoo,
Causing Peadackle to crow "Pea-da-doodle-do."
But upon the seabed
Where all is peaceful and still,
That piece of Maraqua that is most tranquil,
Is an assortment of shells, all colors and shapes,
Forming a breath-taking undersea scape.
They're dazzling and sparkling
And crimson and pink,
They're spiky and spotted and curly, I think.
There's Tangerine Trumpet
And Fairy Wings galore.
You'll see mussels and scallops like never before.
But its the clams that I've fancied
Since I was a girl,
Always in search of that one special pearl.
Though I've never found a pearl
That quite suited me,
For if I did I'd have to give up the sea.
So my search will go on in the Maraquan Abyss,
For there's just no place as tranquil as this.
Total Poetry Pages : 2008
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