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Dance of the Korbat
Wings of darkness fan the night
Against the moon, gleaming bright
Glistening fangs snap through the air
The Korbat is awake - beware!
Screeches of laughter split the still
Sometime soon the Korbat will
Start dancing, shooting to great height
They will be out till dawn's first light
Spinning, twirling with airborne ease
Floating gently on the breeze
Wing to wing, whizzing far
Touching, reaching for a star
Acrobatics high above
Make me watch and daydream of
Flying high, and wheeling 'round
Emitting ethereal sound
When darkness sees what darkness hides
Korbats flee where they abide
Full day, full sun, till twilight sings
Then dance again, on airy wings
And so I watch the midnight sky
That I may someday learn to fly
I can only hope, and dream, and see
Their carefree soaring, high and free
For here and now, I walk the ground
Listen for the Korbat's sound!
Can't you hear, oh, have you guessed?
They dance with wings
With which they're blessed.
With Faeries Gone
And where now are the flickerings of light,
The rippling laughter, scarce heard on the air,
The silken wings, the tiny faces fair,
The rustling dances of faeries in flight?
And oh! The air breathes only dust, not life;
The stars are pale and lifeless in the sky.
Darkness is death, and days pass slowly by,
The wind is, with naught but silence, rife.
Where, o Sun, do your fiery children play?
The wind, unstirred by tiny hands, lies flat;
The water's still, as are the green leaves that
Once hummed with life... the life has gone away.
Dark creatures, spark again the moon's pale glow!
Bright creatures, sing again into the air!
Laugh once again through tiny faces fair;
But please, o faeries, leave us not alone!
The Woe Teller
He sits on the edge of wooded wheel
- The wrinkly paint does slowly peel
A curly smile and curly hair
Ebony brows in a wry pair
He sits and waits where mists do shroud
And half-moon leers at wisp of cloud
His copper eyes now bronze - then gold
And in his hands a tome he holds
The Gypsies dance in streams of spice
Their swishing garments specked with feist
The gold - rings, necklaces - laughs slyly
And the live red fire twitches eerily
He waits - the Elephante, by day, by night
For the single pet to tell his plight
Of the mist-wreathed houses in broken row
His plight to tell - the Tale of Woe
A Dream of Kreludor
While dozing in a cozy bed
A Neopet may turn their head
And gaze through shining windowpane
To catch a glimpse of silver rain.
The soft cascading honeydew
Is beacon from a far off view.
Its moonbeams cast from Kreludor,
Beloved moon on distant shore.
Every pet doth know this name,
Where all the Grundos look the same.
Their orange hue is proud and free,
Their safety - hard fought victory.
With eyes reflecting silver gleam,
The Neopet drifts into dream.
Turning head from windowpane
As light from moon begins to wane.
The body warm in bed's cocoon,
The mind beyond the shining moon.
A Xweetok's Ramblings
When maples change to reds and golds
and aspens thunder in the breeze -
when summer's fire fades and folds
and wafting drops beneath the trees -
when calling Mallards sail at night
across the moon to the second star -
when Eyries shudder and take flight
for warmer lands and tropics far -
then I will wander through the fields
and shudder in the gusting cold,
and pass beneath the trees that yield
their bounty, and about me fold
my tail, and revel in the wheel
that turns, and turns and turns to Fall;
and wander back to home and meal
and night-time Mallards' wistful call.
Total Poetry Pages : 1879
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