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To Sleep, Perchance to Dream
There's something wrong in Altador,
The Archivist's confused,
He can't remember history,
His pride is feeling bruised.
On top of this, you find your eye
On random-seeming signs,
One on a tomb, one in a field,
One when some clouds align.
You task yourself with finding out
This land of legend's woe,
Into the Hall of Heroes now
You feel it's time to go.
Inside the Hall's a Janitor,
He's mopping down the floor,
I'm sure he looks familiar,
Where's he shown up before?
He seems a trifle furious,
It's hard to make out why,
The air-con's on the blink because
It's heating up the sky!
En route to see the Archivist,
You spot a message board,
"By leisurely astronomers
The stars must be explored!"
After initiation ends,
You get your telescope,
And to the Hall of Heroes' roof
You turn your head with hope.
A week or two pass rapidly,
And you meet with much success
In finding constellations,
To the Blumaroo's distress.
The archivistic Lenny says,
"You seem to have the knack!
The twelve founders of Altador
Make up this zodiac.
"However, though it's hard to hear,
One of those righteous dudes
Must be the one responsible!"
The Archivist concludes.
When only Altador himself
And Jerdana remain,
It seems the author of the spell's
What you must ascertain.
While snooping in the waterworks,
You have the chance to find
A necklace of a faerie
Of the very darkest kind.
You put it round the Sleeper's neck
On her statue in the Hall,
Her statue and her spell both break,
And truth returns to all.
King Altador appears to you
To help you comprehend,
You just saved all of Altador!
"Here, have some gifts." The end!
The Beauty Contest Battle!
Countless pets with baited breath,
The hour did draw near.
Some were bold, predicting wins,
And others quaked in fear.
Veiled comments, thinning grins,
The clock was counting fast.
With nerves that quaked they watched so close,
As seconds rolled on past.
Who would take home trophy's gleam?
Would scandal soon break out?
"I should have won!" would be the cry,
"Not fair!" would be the shout!
Some would shake paws and move on,
And try again next week.
A lucky few would win the gold,
Too awed to even speak!
The week had passed in frenzied fun,
Each pet had done their best.
It all came down to 4:15,
When votes made up the rest.
Could friends made within the week,
Survive the voting count?
As each pet gave their best display,
The tension sure did mount!
Before all knew it, time had come,
The outcome known to all.
"Contest's over, see results!"
Went out the merry call.
Congratulations were passed 'round,
Old foes could finally speak.
They all shook paws, relaxed again,
That is, until next week!
Following Mad Tongue Murphy
Professor Fairweather, visionary!
He dreamed of seeking the unknown.
He longed to see our store of knowledge
To the highest reaches grown.
Clever Lilian, his scholarly daughter,
Helped to make his dream come true.
Dauntless Roxton helped her stay alive.
To him, much honour is due.
Unsurpassed in nautical skills,
Captain Rourke was their capable guide.
Uninvited, yet a definite asset,
Plucky Scrap worked by the Captain's side.
And finally let us remember
The noble work of Mr. Werther.
He carried luggage twice his size,
Balanced books upon his head,
Compiled notes for months on end,
And followed wherever his employer led.
Let's praise these heroes with our song.
May they prosper! May they live long!
Symol Hole Adventures
Hop up to the Symol Hole,
I jump in and away I go.
Falling farther, farther still,
I hit the bottom and take a spill.
Pick myself up and look around,
Not a thing is to be found.
I climb back up into the sun,
"There now, wasn't that fun?"
Come back the next day,
For a codestone I pray.
I jump in and again I fall,
I land on something not hard at all.
I'm sitting in a lump of dirt,
I look at it and feel hurt.
Suddenly I realise there's something more,
An avatar down on the floor!
Land of Brightvale
Grand turrets rest upon a castle,
Stood proudly among a small village,
Shops scattered around, with little hassle,
And a traditional entrance to the palace --
The cosy manor could almost compete
With King Skarl's stately home.
Flag of Brightvale waving, unique and elite --
Visit King Hagan, your wisdom
May earn you a tome.
Take a trip to the Wheel of Knowledge,
Or perhaps the Royal Potionery's delights;
There are stalls for fruit at the end of the village,
As well as books --
Perfect for speculating playwrights.
We'd like to visit Brightvale every day,
It brings us nothing but happiness and joy!
With so much to do, there is so little to say
So why not pop on down to experience and enjoy?
Total Poetry Pages : 2009
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