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LENNY DAY SPECIAL
Dayla, Lenny Extraordinaire!
Run, tackle, dodge and dive!
Excitement's in the air.
But who will win this fast-paced game?
Suspense, too much to bear!
In Altador, so far away,
A game of Yooyu's played.
Betwixt two teams, so grand, so fair,
A legend will be made!
One team is from good Meridell,
Where gruel is quite the norm.
The other team is from Roo Isle,
And each team's in top form.
But 'mongst the crowd of top athletes,
One player doth stand out.
A fair young 'gal, with locks, fire red,
A Lenny, bold and stout.
She dives towards the Yooyu ball,
Just watch that Petpet roll!
She sets herself, the coast is clear,
And BAM! She scores a goal!
The crowd goes wild! They give a cheer!
The island flags all fly!
This Lenny's great! They do declare,
So quick! So fast! So spry!
Her name is screamed around the stands,
She beams, her face aglow.
The game is won! Meridell's beat!
But they're not sour, oh no.
Each player from the other team
goes up, to shake her hand.
They all agree, this player's good!
The best in all the land!
Her name's Dayla, has she got guts!
And she's got skill to spare!
She's bold and swift, she's got a gift!
A natural Yooyu flair!
Suddenly, Dayla wakes up!
O dear, 'twas all a dream.
But in her heart, she makes an oath,
One day she'll join the team.
She says that when she's all grown up,
Her promise, she will keep.
And with these words inside her head,
She settles down, to sleep.
A Lesson in Pride
A faerie Lenny, once he was,
And held in high regard;
In the bank his Neopoints stashed
Shone brightly as the sun.
He used to go on shopping sprees
For Petpets, food and clothes,
Scoffing at the poorer ones
Who asked the Well for more.
But one cold winter's afternoon
When he was having lunch,
Doctor Sloth knocked on his door
And asked for chocolate fudge.
This Lenny, proud, with beak held high,
Sneered and thus replied,
"Only gourmet food for me,
I've none such grub in supply!"
Quick to take offence was Sloth,
Seething with outrage,
He zapped the haughty Lenny once
For belittling his taste.
So cursed was the Lenny hence,
Now mutant and in despair.
Deeply humbled, he never again
Scorned other poorer Neopets.
A Lenny traveler doth stand
Upon the peak of distant hill.
His feathers rustle in the gusts
Of strong wind, blowing where it will.
The dust of many trodden paths
Clings desperately to his feet.
The songs of every land he's seen
Do chorus in a rhythmic beat.
His pack is heavy, clothes are worn,
His mind strays back to bygone days.
Those memories faded, waning now,
Just like the orange sunlit rays.
His eyes squint out into the sun,
Which sets beyond the far off trees.
He takes a breath of clean, crisp air,
A gulp of freshness from the breeze.
The Lenny traveler sets off,
Exploring, wandering as he will.
Great new adventures doth await
As he descends the lonely hill.
In Honor Of The Lenny Festival
Please pardon my long-winded grandiloquence
But I'm a librarian, my speech is intense.
I practice my lexicon's mellifluence
With patience and vigor and much diligence.
But maybe you heckle my intelligence
So pardon me, please try to take no offense
When I say poor diction is just negligence --
Not circumstance, indolence, or reticence.
I say things with prominence, with such salience
That it never shows pride or displays impudence.
In fact, I have boatloads of great common sense.
I'm very well known as an academic reference.
I suffer from no blows to my self-confidence.
I cite whole encyclopedias in my skillful defense.
I'll argue an issue with such truculence
That my opponent will bathe in my omnipotence.
Visit Lenny Library, go hie yourself hence
And read up on Lennies, because we're the best!
(Not that I want to show proud preference
But because Lennies are clever and chock full of sense!
Lenny of the Archives
Stack upon each dusty stack,
Doth spiral to the sky.
Here within the archived books,
There's tomes in grand supply!
The keeper of this learned realm,
One 'Finneus' by name.
Can find one anything they seek,
Or so you'll hear him claim!
Monocle perched on sharp beak,
He wanders each aisle slow.
Is he lost, or just in thought?
(It's something none can know!)
Feathered digits span so soft,
And reach up in delight.
The chapters sought are lost no more,
Now firm within his sight.
The archives like his mind itself,
Might seem a little old.
Amongst the dust that cluster both,
Great wonders do unfold.
He who kept the records straight,
When Altador was dark.
Amongst the city's record books,
This Lenny left his mark.
He alone does guard the tome,
The book so known to all.
The history of a city's plight,
A tale that shall enthrall.
With feathered thumbs so hooked right in,
To waistcoats pockets, tight.
Slender legs keep him aloft,
And at impressive height!
With idle amble Lenny moves,
Amongst each dusty row.
Keeper of a magic tome,
And books from long ago.
Total Poetry Pages : 1971
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