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One night at rich Fernypoo's palace,
After a long fashion debate,
Concluding tiaras are gorgeous,
And clear visors somewhat third rate,
Fernypoo went for her beauty sleep,
Kalora pretended to leave,
But in the hall decided to linger --
She had an idea up her sleeve,
A short while later she emerged,
And crept up to Fernypoo's room,
Stopping to make cricket noises
To make things sound normal, I assume,
She took the crown from sleeping Ferny,
And set it upon her own head,
She admired herself in the mirror,
With Ferny unaware in her bed,
Kalora tiptoed toward the door,
But then came an unlucky hitch,
The crown fell off her head to the floor
As her ears gave an untimely twitch,
Fernypoo woke up; she'd heard the bang,
"What's going on?" she demanded,
Kalora made her excuses but,
She had been captured red-handed!
Water Faerie: A Series of 5 Haiku
A water faerie sits,
In the cool blue fountain springs,
Healing all who come.
Selling her potions,
To just the mere passer-by,
One per customer.
Her hair cascading,
As though 'twas a waterfall,
Quite a sight to see.
Her tail shines so bright,
Glittering in the hot sun,
Splashing in water.
Ah how kind she is,
To give when we give her none,
Sweet water faerie.
Poogle No. 5: I Won't Be Left Behind
I run my fastest
But still get beat.
I land on my head
When I should be on my feet.
I try to move forward,
But I am stuck in rewind.
Why do I keep at it?
I won't be left behind.
The harder I am thrown,
The higher I bounce.
I give it my all,
And that's all that counts.
In first place,
Myself , I seldom find.
So I push to the limit --
I won't be left behind.
Some Poogles tell me you can't,
Some say don't.
Some simply give up.
I reply, "I won't."
The power is here,
Locked in my mind.
My perseverance is my excellence,
I won't be left behind.
Make the best of each moment,
The future is soon the past.
The more I tell myself this,
The less I come in last.
Throughout my competitions,
I've learned what winning is about.
A plain and clear lesson --
Giving up is the easy way out.
So every night before I go to bed,
I hope in a small way I have shined.
Tomorrow is a brand-new day,
And I won't be left behind.
Tossed by storms,
Waves still crashing in his head,
To the Gaze's hold retires,
Dreaming of a peaceful bed.
Down the stair,
Finally sights his cabin door;
With a yawn, he steps inside,
Little knowing what's in store.
His rest has fled;
Now, in its stead,
A slender Kougra sits in place:
Young, serene, with fur of rose,
A playful smile upon her face.
Neatly stacked in front of her,
Like shells that fleck the shore:
Strange, shining tiles
From distant isles:
A marble temple on the floor.
Speaks the Kougra,
Her calm voice blows like wind.
"Through moon and sun, I've waited here
To see whom fate should send.
The tiles, I see,
Have captured you;
Your eyes have lingered long."
A flash of challenge lights her face:
"Would you care for a game of Kou-Jong?"
The sailor's bed
Cries to him with earnest will,
Yet the Kougra's gleaming tiles
Seem to beckon stronger still.
Sleep can wait:
The crewman's choice;
Lights his face the challenge-flame,
As he sits, selects a tile:
"I'll stay awake for just one game."
Are you lost?
No tired seaman comes to sight;
Only one who plays Kou-Jong
For the nineteenth time tonight.
Slothy's Machine OF DOOM
Just outside of civilization,
Is the Neocola Machine.
Trade it tokens for soft drinks,
I wonder if it's clean?!?
Red, or blue, or green,
Dr. Frank Sloth's face is on these.
They are kind of cool looking,
All striped like bees.
Slip a token in its slot,
What flavour shall I pick?
How many times do you push the red button?
About 42 should do the trick.
Tapping my foot while waiting,
Wonder what's taking so long...
I hope Dr. Sloth isn't watching me,
Maybe something has gone wrong.
The machine starts to make odd noises,
*WHIRRR* MACHINE OF DOOM!
I stare blankly at it,
Then something comes flying out like ZOOM!
"What in the world is this?" I say,
A can of Neocola is in my hand.
It's slightly vibrating...
I wonder if its from a different land?
Rather thirsty as I was,
I opened it up.
Oh dear... big mistake.
That can was shaken-up!!!
Well, that thing was awfully powerful,
It was kind of like a rocket.
I ended up on Terror Mountain...
Nothing but an empty can
Of Neocola in my pocket.
Total Poetry Pages : 1971
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