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Hall of Heroes
Across the land,
And to the west shore,
There lies a wondrous kingdom,
Known as Altador.
You may not see it at first.
It's tucked in the mountains.
And if you find it, go in,
This is where the adventure begins.
Where to first?
How about Magical Marvels,
Or Legendary Petpets?
You've never seen these, I bet.
But those places can make your Neopoints
Go from five thousand to all zeroes.
That's why I prefer
The Hall of Heroes.
It isn't elaborately decorated,
In fact it's quite plain.
There, in a circle, are statues
Of our heroes since slain.
King Altador, the Hunter,
Stands tall and sturdy.
While Kelland, the Thief,
Tends to get pretty dirty.
Ah, Fauna, the Gatherer,
Always helping where she can.
And then there's Gordos, the Collector,
Reaching out a greedy hand.
Torakor, the Gladiator,
Forever ready for battle.
And Florin, the Farmer,
Would rather raise his cattle.
Psellia, the Dreamer,
Giving Neopets sweet dreams to keep.
Siyana, the First to Rise,
Brings the day's sun,
Awakening Marak, the Wave,
Letting him know his day has begun.
Sasha, the Dancer,
Is a magnificently beautiful dancer,
But she can't match Jerdana, the Protector.
No one has ever beaten her.
A certain hero is not among these
It seems to me.
Maybe a faerie?
But where could she be?
The Land of Neopia
Among the bare soil fire reigns,
Around the sandy shore water rules,
Upon the welcomed touch air breathes,
The soil which holds all earth embraces.
A fury of unfurling melodies wrought their song,
A tangoing wind reaches toward its yearnings,
A cascade of falling tears wrought the land,
Reverberating beats solidify the earth's sentiment.
Fast twirling melodies twine their song
high above the moon,
Waltzing melodies furl their way around the earth,
Light symphonies shape islands of pure bliss,
Undermining drones fill the air
with the breath of life.
Glacial mountains stand its terror,
Glowering trees whisper its haunt,
Waters glimmer, their secrets untouched,
A globe of silver radiates its wonted fire.
Life upon those pallid clouds up high,
Naught but grains litter the sacred harmony,
Stripes decorate the breath of mount,
Music flows from the tumbles of silver.
These melodies twine their song
as one in a never-ending song,
'Twas the song that speaks of the land of Neopia.
Legend of the Lost Isle
At last the mystery will unfold,
An island lost, a place of old.
Treasure vast for some to win,
A journey waiting to begin.
Adventure calls, don't heed the cost,
The crew will seek the Isle, lost.
Rocking boat on rolling sea,
The ocean breeze aloft and free.
Unlikely folk are in the fray,
But none know yet what part they'll play.
A Tonu leads, professor, wise,
Such hope for knowledge in his eyes.
His daughter's also out at sea,
A Xweetok lass, aglow with glee.
They've left the shoreline far behind,
To dream of wonders they might find.
One suave Lutari, rather bold,
And searching for that land of old.
A surly captain at the helm,
To steer them to that island realm.
One stowaway, scrap of a lad,
(This means there's trouble to be had!)
The five of them adventure seek,
To find the land of which myths speak.
The Faerie Paint Brush
A sparkling array of colour and light,
To cause one to startle at the very first sight.
Sweet as the day when compared to the night,
Better by far than that plain boring brown.
Delicate glimmers of silvery gold,
More dazzling hues than our language can hold.
Ranging from pastel to neutral to bold,
Better by far than that plain boring brown.
Yet, with a beautiful, unearthly cry,
It fled from my grip, and soared to the sky.
I let out a grieving, sorrowful sigh,
Why did I not choose that plain,
The Meepit Army
The Meepit Army marches on,
Of which most are unaware,
For what cruel thoughts could lurk behind
That hapless and glazed-eyed stare?
To achieve their most wicked plans
One goal alone must be met:
To infiltrate the Neohome
Of each and every Neopet!
Those evil eyes can hypnotise
Breaking even the strongest soul
And bending its will to their own.
The Meepits are now in control.
Is their desire to rule the world?
Or be fed juice every day?
What exactly their plans entail,
Even the wisest cannot say.
So keep your doors and windows locked
Just before you go to sleep,
For widened eyes watch in the dark
And whispered voices cry out "Meep."
Total Poetry Pages : 1984
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