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WOCKY DAY SPECIAL
The Birthday Prank
Rayzen the Wocky was tricky and sly,
He'd steal all your money and not bat an eye,
His paws were so fast that they couldn't be seen;
A thief and a prankster and all things in between.
Amazingly, Rayzen had plenty of friends,
The ones he'd played pranks on
But then made amends,
They knew that his habits were only in jest,
And they were the ones
That knew Rayzen the best.
His birthday approached,
And his friends shared ideas,
Would they decorate with crepe,
Or with fruit-colored Chias?
Refreshments: Would they be simple or grand?
Would music be taped
Or a spiffin' live band?
But one pet, a Uni, who knew Rayzen well,
Declared, "Let's be sneaky this year! We'll all yell,
'SURPRISE!' when he comes home
From playing his tricks,
And then we'll all party and give him his licks."
The motion was seconded, thirded and carried,
The friends all dispersed
With their agendas, not harried,
They had a whole month to plan out their attack,
In good humor, of course,
But they'd all get him back.
Rayzen could tell that something was up,
His friends were all plotting from dusk to sunup,
Though he pried and he prodded,
They all kept tight-lipped,
And, frankly, Rayzen was starting to feel gypped.
Day after day, his pranks went ignored,
His attempts to be noticed hadn't failed before!
Something was wrong
With his friends, with his clique,
And he'd do something drastic soon
If they didn't speak!
At long last, the day dawned -
His birthday had come!
They cleaned up his house of every last crumb,
All were so busy, so deep in preparation,
That they didn't notice him
Observe their creation.
His eyes filled with wonder
As they scrubbed and they swept,
This was a secret that'd been very well kept!
They imported crepe paper
And welcomed the band,
The party they'd organized looked to be grand!
As he watched, his face lit up with a grin.
So this was their game, eh? He would still win.
They thought they could best him,
Rayzen the Slick?
Ha! He'd show them a few of his tricks.
He slipped soap in the punch
And bugs in the cake,
He substituted slime for some of the crepe,
The band was supposed to sit on sturdy seats...
He spiced it up, you might say,
With spectacular "treats."
When he opened the door,
To find his friends there,
He simply smirked in his fashion
That made them beware.
"You've put together a party for me?
Well, this is something I simply must see!"
His friends spluttered on punch
And squealed at the bugs,
The band simply glared at him-
He looked way too smug.
To all but himself, the party seemed wrecked,
His friends, though, knew better,
And they were correct.
Though Rayzen was sly and as slick as a sleuth,
Rayzen loved mischief and that was the truth.
The Grey Feline
Why do you gaze at me so,
With eyes of jaded woe?
Now low, then grim,
All on a whim?
And always a startling rose
Held in wilted pose
Are there Meepits in your meal?
Or burrs in your languished tail?
Now drab, then sullen,
But still faint-silken
And always a lavish train
But hung with seeming pain
Is your fur tangled?
Now dull, then flat,
But still - sleek cat
And always with a silver sheen
Though the Grey Wocky never preens.
The Wocky Farmer
The Wocky farmer nods his head,
His face aglow with pride
His marrow was a marvelous sight,
With no help from pesticide.
As green as a frog,
As big as a house,
She weighed one hundred tonnes
And never would a single bite
Be taken by a mouse.
She'd taken many months to grow,
And many dangers faced
A pack of wild Bearogs
Had almost made her waste.
But her ever-cheerful protector
Had kept her safe from harm
He'd fought off animals and sicknesses
The master of the farm.
And now his efforts were rewarded
He lifted his head high
It was not every day he was awarded
The Horticultural Prize.
The Eldest Wocky
His eyes were pools of liquid dream,
His fur was silver-grey.
He was the kind of Wocky,
Who'd seen many a Wocky Day.
"Young lad," he croaked and poked my hand,
"The days have come and gone.
Spend yours well for both of us,
And your happiness you'll have won.
Don't spend your time running after the things,
That don't matter in the end.
Remember every moment,
And make 'em all count,
And the sorrows themselves will mend."
When I asked him what he meant by this,
He shook his head of grey.
"Young lad, have you been listening?
Enjoy your Wocky Day!!"
The Mystery of MAGAX
Phantoms haunt the wicked 'eve,
Adrift on vile breeze.
Vicious whisper in the boughs,
So sinister, dark trees.
Within the spectral realm dwells he,
And thus, he walks alone.
Once a villain, now reformed,
For dark past he'll atone.
Nemesis of Hubrid Nox,
The scourge of one so dark.
It's vicious beast he hunts each night,
Amongst a realm so stark.
Whispering in barren trees,
As spectral Wocky glides.
His form a shimmer through the veil,
A shadow glimpse subsides.
Redemption MAGAX seeks within,
The shroud of bleakest land.
Alone against the vile Nox,
He'll make his final stand.
Crimson gaze a vivid sheen,
It drifts along each shape.
From the torment deep within,
He knows there's no escape.
Spectral phantom, vision dark,
So eerie does he drift.
Unearthly form doth linger here,
Then vanishes, so swift.
Only one shall face the beast,
A Wocky's phantom form.
He alone can defeat Nox,
And in this act, reform.
Keeper of the Darklight Axe,
He glides throughout the wood.
Knowing things that dwell in dark,
Are seldom up to good.
Total Poetry Pages : 1827
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