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900TH POETRY CONTEST
The Little Kougra
Languid is the little Kougra;
He cavorts with impish bounds
O'er shores that boast of colour,
Of striking sights and sounds.
O'er wavelets crafted from frothing sea
With crests of clotted cream,
Mystery Island is his playground,
But only in this dream.
Oft will he twitch and pounce
On morning Sun's quick ray
As it glosses over pawprints
On tranquil sandy bay.
His nose sniffs out juicy jungle fruit;
That ever inquisitive eye
Is firebright and easily caught
By flitting butterfly.
And should his fur be heavy with salt
Or his dewy eyes grow tired
Into the shade he lopes and settles
To seek the sleep desired.
Thither will he indulge
In long and carefree slumber
Before the Babaas in his mind
Can multiply in number.
Perchance he will dream another dream
Of some impressive exploration
Or vanquish wicked evildoer
Without hint of hesitation.
For despite visions of starlight,
This Kougra is not quite wild
And curling close nearby
Is content to be my wayward child.
Beneath the billowing
blue and breathy bubbles
Of Maraqua's deeply
murky melding meres
Robed in royal cloth,
wreathed with red-gold
Was crowned a Koi king
Kelpbeard against the curse
Of plundering pirates
piercing blessed peace.
Servants and soldiers
in his city bore shields,
Washing waves whispered
words of war
His dreamers drew
visions of darkening days
But he vowed to fight the vicious
villains and rise victorious.
He sent his fierce forces into
the fray towards the foes,
An army arrayed,
armed against their enemies
He commanded them, columns
of fighters came through currents,
Through the swift sea with
sparkling spears and swords
Made from Kelpbeard's metal,
Of it he built beauty, brought
benevolence beneath the sea
Of it he wrought weapons and waged
war, the warrior king
Stood at the center of his city
and sent his soldiers to save
Their refuge rent, now
repaired and renewed
Besieged with battle and brandishing
knives against the boors.
His city of secrets was
surrounded by Scarblade's men
and perilous pirates
Set his deftly defended
realm in danger of defeat
King Kelpbeard called for
his helmet and cold cutlass
Teal tiled armor reflected
turning twisting tides
Marvelous Maractite mirrored
the mad and foamy mists
He dared and declared a
duel upon the deadly deck.
Wrath-filled red eyes shone
from the ruinous Revenge
A cruel Captain against the
commanding Koi king Kelpbeard
Blow for blow they battled,
balancing in blue-black waters both
Fell, and Scarblade fled
the fight in a flash of fear.
Whisps of waves sing of the win
The withdrawal of the foe were whispered.
He declared no death, no last attack
from the deep upon the disgraced
No more mire upon the
Maractite shield of Maraqua
Kelpbeard the Koi king
commanded compassion in his land.
Great Tyrannian Battle
Ugga Monoceraptor guma
Ugga wara in Tyrammet
Ugga fightra fa ag free
Ugga Tyrannia a Tyranu yu bet!
Ugga sitra eatra Gargaraptor
Ugga I tellra boutra war
Ugga Kyruggi pointra da army
Ugga Grarrg fightra more
Ugga Tekel usera triksy spellra
Ugga potion scara lot
Ugga Myncha watchra sneeky
Ugga Neopia joinra plot
Ugga Plesio swimmy waters
Ugga guardra Wheel Mediocrity
Ugga Sabre buildra planra
Ugga nowra Sabre guardra omelette free
Ugga wara longra hardra
Ugga butra ga finally win
Ugga watchra fora Monoceraptor
Ugga we ready fightra again!
The Tale of Bruno
A monster hidden in a darkened shroud,
His fate sealed upon a deal,
To change his foreboding fortune,
To a form that was not real.
Wicked eyes now tell the truth
Of the grievances he did face,
Trapped and bound by spells alone,
Previous existence gone without a trace.
In the woods a soul does weep,
A shattered mirror reflects a beast,
Screams of agony shake granite walls,
Of a former life that now has ceased.
Clothed in the tattered rags,
From a town sent to its doom,
Only rubble and nightmares remain,
In every house, within every room.
A word of warning to the wise,
Shall one ever come across his path,
Flee for your life you will,
To avoid his insatiable wrath.
Yet, behind a facade of anguish,
A pure soul still tries to live,
Hidden within the walls of time,
That he simply cannot forgive.
Thus those wicked eyes do speak,
Of a tale known by all who heard,
That his current form does not reflect,
The Neopet's inner feelings and words.
And so this Neovian tale lives on,
Of a Gelert trapped beyond his will,
A evil potion cursed his life,
But he remains dominant ever still.
The Creation of a Krawk
Hidden far from watchful eye,
Where waves first meet the shore,
Nestled in the cliff face deep--
Lies a fabled cave of lore.
Gather there do pirates all,
Come with treasured wares,
Golden trinkets, weapons too,
They'll trade with all who dare.
But this is not the only thing
For which the cave is known,
For magic fungus grows within,
Lush across the stone.
Krawks -- the tiny Petpets go,
With owners clinging tight,
To seek out fabled Fungus Cave,
And set their form to rights.
A mouthful of the foul plant
Is all that it takes,
A blinding flash of emerald light,
And a Neopet awakes.
With glinting scales and cunning eyes,
And that disarming smile,
The Krawk, it can be fairly said
Is a most charming reptile.
The Book Store Nimmo Ode
Behold! I here have many shelves,
Where each book rests its unique spine,
Makes a bed for the dancing dust,
And sits here in a tidy line.
Have I so much in store for you--
Much adventure to ride your mind
Of gallant steeds and noble queens--
Much suspense and action to find.
Here I keep intrigue barred on the pages,
Ready for your eyes to sweep gone.
Read a lament of the raging sea,
A striking poem of breaking dawn.
Find some information on your kind;
Read a chapter -- maybe one or two!
Come and search these winding aisles--
There must be something here for you.
Catch the latest news on Sloth,
Maybe where to find a faerie.
Here you can learn anything,
So please, do not be weary!
Let the youngsters learn their ABCs,
The girls read of the latest looks,
The boys of the next space race--
It's all here in these books.
I know all literature as treasure;
Each book is a different friend.
So come, my eager reader, come--
Devour all books to their end!
And when it's time to close this place,
And let the reading lamps find sleep,
Remember the pages, the wings your fingers
Soared upon and moments may you keep!
Crowns, Cups, and Swords
The breeze was light and airy like a shiver
Of faerie's wings above the shady tree aquiver
The branches stretched out sanctuary kind
The grass was soft; I slowly closed my mind.
Only for eyes to snap open - what is this?
A newcomer, intruder on spring bliss.
Yet not your normal stranger in a cloak
But tiny violet-eyed Ixi, child of common folk.
Minutes seeped slow into tortured hours,
In the grasp of that leaf-sheltered bower
My eyes turned bloodshot, weak and slow.
Past novelty, my frustration began to grow.
A golden goblet, a crimson crown,
My hands shifted the patterns down,
A crimson crown, a silver sword,
Like treasures from a dragon's hoard.
All that glitters is not gold
Foolishness was masked as bold
I took on this greedy game
'Til mind grew dead and fingers lame.
The little lithe Ixi crossed her hooves
Unrelenting, refusing clues
The breeze stirred back her tawny fur
As she laughed at me and I glared at her.
Still I sat beneath that tree,
The world was silver, crimson, gold to me
A golden goblet, a silver sword
I pray for the day where I grow bored.
Green cooking pot, am I alone?
A mystic wind runs through my hair
Disturbing the flowers, overturning a stone
As though it were without a care.
One item dropped, then a second and a third;
A roar is all that it could bear;
I replace one item, then, stirred
A magical clunk; the juice turns clear.
Mumbo Pango appears in front of me
I'm unable to see nor am I able to hear.
Such an eerie cloud of smoke
But a resonating light soon reassures me.
With his hands, great Pango presents
something magical object, from a recipe I've created
it has produced something
great for the Island peasants
for a small price that I have stated.
I carefully wrap this precious gift,
special and sacred, it must be treasured.
I'm going to give this to a higher authority.
My mind wandering, I begin to drift
and so the gift has disappeared.
Frantically, I start to search
for I must not lose this beauty!
A wild bird from Mystery Isle is swinging on his perch,
but instead he helps me search - it's his duty.
We search throughout the grasses tall
wide and far, high and low
Through every house we must call
this process begins to slow
but, oh, at last! We have found
the gift; I tenderly add the finish touch
and, without a sound,
I take it to the recipient -
they're not impressed by much.
Ungrateful as he is, it produces a smile
from his gracious lips
and he proceeds to put it upon a pile
of other gifts, many with rips,
but I know he has appreciated
my efforts all the while.
The Treachery of Morguss
You see a Moehog, dressed in rags,
They smell of webs and must,
Overlaid with a simple veil
Of lies and dirt and dust.
Her skin is muddy greenish grey,
Mottled and unkempt;
Her face is turned to look at you,
For power to attempt.
She condescends, but it doesn't show,
Her smile stretches sweet;
A leer that struggles to look benign,
But plainly shows deceit.
"Come with me," her voice suggests,
Holding out an arm;
"I'll show you riches, show you fame,
Power, friends and charm."
"I'll give you gold, I'll give you jewels,
Beyond your wildest dreams;
You'll never be alone again,"
She tempts you as she schemes.
"You'll never grieve or steal or starve,
You'll never be alone;
Fulfill your whims, do as you please,"
Invites the haggard crone.
"I'll give you anything you want,
Give you everlasting life,
You can be immortal if you please,
Leave behind all of your strife."
This Moehog Morguss can make you free,
You can hear that from the start;
But use your judgment, can you trust
A hag without a heart?
The choice remains within your grasp
If you will go or stay:
Will you come with this old hag,
Or back slowly away?
Ode to the Royal Kau
Queen of Hoof and Golden Hair,
Let me see your green cape flare,
Billowing behind fur cream,
And sunny eyes so serene.
King of Tail and Tall Crown,
Crimson face creased by no frown,
Spotted fur around your face,
Do you need silk and lace?
Twin rulers with a sense of grace,
And diplomatic air,
Please take me to your palace so-
The grass is greener there!
Total Poetry Pages : 1971
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