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ZAFARA DAY SPECIAL
Zafara Double Agent
Flitting silently through the night
Borne on silver wings
Starlight glimmers in her eyes
Tells times of faerietales and kings.
For a creature such as this
Always on the move
A bowl of gruel is pure bliss
For what is she? a tool!
Made for one to use in courts -
The rejected scourge of kings
Armed with daggers and sharp retorts,
Paid in gold and diamond rings.
And her name? They chorus her name
In bitter tones and sharp refrains
The Rogue, they cry, watch out for the Rogue!
For ill temperament her presence must bode
Sharing secrets with those opposed
For her heart - her heart! is cold
More frigid than the freezing snow
Her charming lies and words a flow
For this, my friends, is the Zafara Rogue.
Eve of St. Edna
'Twas the night of Hallow's Eve,
when ghouls and ghosts alike,
set forth upon their mission
to scare those fools tonight.
But if you thought that this was all
that was in store for you...
then best you wait and see
what else we've got for you!
Older, mouldier than Brie,
she's a green-hued Zafara,
zapping and cackling and clapping away,
she sits in her dark tower:
toiling, foiling, boiling her brew
'till thick cauldrons bubble
and broomsticks snap to rubble.
But on the night of Hallow's Eve,
dear Edna knows no spell
to turn her shame into her fame,
for evil she is outdone for.
There be pretty, vain Miss Vira,
once pranced in her Pebeanjays...
now lurks in shadows, with looking glass at hand,
waiting for her victims, poisoned in her land.
But let's not forget mad Eliv Thade,
or bounty-hunter Balthazar
whose lives were once so plentiful,
now plagued in Woods afar.
But darkest yet is still to come,
And Edna knows full well:
The Queen of them all is dark Jhudora,
whose lair you shan't trespass
unless it is her wicked wrath,
you truly wish unleashed!
So Edna scowls and growls, until she finds a plan
to stew young Neopets into her cauldron brew!
Young Blumaroos, both sweet and kind,
are privy to her mind.
When asked to come,
they bounce and bounce
'till steaks their tails become!
This Hallow's Eve, dame Edna toils away
stil hoping for St. Edna's Day,
'till then she's here to stay.
Yes, these shunned, dark castaways,
mischievous and most mad,
cackle into the full-mooned night:
"Come out, come out!" they say!
Once more, they shout,
"Come out, come out, and play!"
The Zafara Double Agent
Stealing quickly through the night,
With but the smallest trace.
Her footsteps making not a sound,
With lithe, and silky grace.
The agent for not good nor bad,
A spy for those who pay.
She works for both the king and Lord,
But none does she obey.
Her name is but a mystery,
and so, most people say,
She's but a double agent now,
A wild Zafara stray.
She's quick and smart, and beautiful,
So using all her wit.
She steals, and spies, so no surprise,
Her mind is sharp and fit.
She sneaks around, without a sound,
She trades info for gold.
And if you've got enough with you,
Her services are sold!
But if you think you've paid the price,
That she's loyal to you.
Then be prepared to get a shock,
You haven't got a clue.
She lives her life, with not a rule,
She's not been found or caught.
To trust her is a tricky game,
'Cause even when she's bought
She won't be loyal, fair or true,
That's how she plays the game.
If you get tricked along the way,
There's none but you to blame.
Kayla's Magical Mixture
Turrets gleam with banners bright,
The walls are endless, pure white.
Within the halls of Skarl's domain,
There's magic potions to obtain.
Down twisting hall that's found by few,
Kayla works on potions brew.
Zafara lass so slight, petite,
Works tirelessly 'till job's complete.
A dash of this, a dart of that,
Perplexed she'll push back starry hat.
That pointed head-dress is her pride,
In matching cape, she'll quickly glide.
Precarious, she climbs a chair,
To find a potion, way up there.
So stored upon the highest shelf,
(Could she have put it there herself?)
Victory, the vial's found,
She scurries back to solid ground.
Sheer delight in shining eyes,
"I think I've done it!" Kayla cries.
The potion glimmers, ah, success!
(Though silver fumes cause quite a mess)
A message in that glowing smoke,
That big magic comes from small folk!
The Snow Zafara
Biting wind and chilling cold
Icy breath, heart of gold
The snow Zafara, a paradox
A subject of Neopian talks
Nobody seems to know
If a Snow Zafara is really made of snow
Doth winter snow, and crystal ice
Seem to them the very best nice?
And wilting in the summer heat
Though they hide it with discreet
Just never appealed to the Zafaras of Snow
Preferring cold and wind that blows
Shunning tea and hot chocolate
Ignoring how frigid the air gets
Snow cones, ice lollies and lemonade
Anything warm, they just seem to fade
No woolen sweaters or fuzzy scarves
As the behemoth formidable glaciers carve
The Snow Zafaras frolic and play
Careless, for it is a snowy day
Summer doth not threaten so
Yet every Neopian seems to know
That first sign of spring, the first glimpse of heat
The Snow Zafaras disappear with paws of fleet
Total Poetry Pages : 2008
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