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Neopets Poems

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SKEITH DAY SPECIAL

Snoozing in the Sun
By _Razcalz_

Month of Gathering draws to close,
Approaching is Skeith Day.
Preparations need to be done,
If we're to eat and play.
Breezes whisper as we work,
Descending autumn leaves.
Every creature's helping out,
That is... everyone but Skeiths.

They're snoozing in the sun, you see,
Content, relaxing smiles.
There's no need to work so hard --
'Tis any Skeith's known style.
While others do the job for them,
Skeiths sit back and lay.
Lazy pets but clever, strong,
Snoozing time away.

Meanwhile, preparation's going well,
As everyone assists.
Garlands, music, food for all:
Cocktails, candies, doughnut twists.
Balloons, confetti, tooting horns,
Picnics on the lawn.
Oblivious are snoozing Skeiths,
Who snore and slumber on.

Morning sun ascending still,
Shining o'er the lake.
Preparations are complete,
Snoozing Skeiths doth wake.
At last we're ready to begin,
The annual Skeith Day fair.
Skeiths innocently join the fun...
"Of course, we helped prepare!"

Stripe the Strange Skeith
By Anjie

He never ran just with the crowd,
No matter how he tried.
"I'm not like every other Skeith!"
Our hero, Stripe, had cried.
"I do not have an angry roar!"
He sadly would lament.
Whispers, giggles, pointed claws,
Wherever poor Stripe went.

When other Skeiths would take delight
From chasing pets so small.
Stripe would hide each tiny one,
Protecting one and all.
He never mastered looking mean,
Or ominous, hard tread.
Stripe looked upon Skeith hunting time,
With distaste and with dread.

On the outside he appeared
Like any other Skeith.
Rough, hard skin would often hide
The gentle soul beneath!
The other folk would often laugh,
When Stripe was out of range.
"He's mighty odd!" one Skeith would laugh,
"That Stripe, he's rather strange!"

Yet in Neopia's bookshelves,
One Skeith's name will stand out.
A book that's known to one and all,
And Stripe's what it's about!
Stripe may have been the strangest Skeith,
And others mocked his name.
Yet being different wrote a book,
And earned him endless fame!

The Hunger of Skeiths
By Yoyote

No other pet can match the Skeith
When it comes to appetite.
With ravenous minds and pointed teeth,
Those Skeiths are pets of might!

King Skarl adores a hearty meal,
As his palace cooks well know.
He eats with the zest of a starving eel,
And his belly sure doth grow.

King Hagan's hunger is for books,
And the worlds that knowledge brings.
He is on good terms with the cooks,
As he is with scribes and kings.

Old Snargan in the dungeons dark,
He has a hunger as well.
The coins between his fingers spark,
For the ante doth surely swell.

And then there is the mad Haskol,
Who lives in Darigan.
He plays Cellblock for a single goal,
To win and win again.

Skeiths from cells, Skeiths from mansions,
Skeiths mature and younger;
Skeiths with varying thoughts and passions,
They all share that hunger.

The Baby Skeith Nursery
By Brilliance109p

A nightmare in the nursery
Has truly come to pass,
Among the other little pets,
Just one is hugely vast.

Dressed in suit of baby blue,
Print bright with stars and moon,
This troublemaker's surely cute,
But no one should be fooled.

His skin is pale and rosy pink,
His expression is carefree,
He laughs as he thumps all around
The little nursery.

A silly grin, a pair of wings,
His eyes are innocent,
They tell of truth and honesty,
As if no harm was meant...

And yet when backs are finally turned,
Who knows what could have been?
Toys strewn 'round, but all his books
Are nowhere to be seen.

The room is full of wails and cries,
Shouting, screaming, hissing.
And all the food and all the milk;
Mysteriously missing!

Meridell Treasure Room
By Reggieman721

Far from wooden castle gates,
Down hidden corridors it lies.
Behind locked door the treasure room
Shines with gold piles of greatest size.

Silver chalices and plates,
Swords and shields from bygone days;
Jewels and stones give off their glow,
While torches in their sockets blaze.

The treasure room of Meridell
Is guarded outside by two Draiks.
But inside, there's a Neopet
Who'll bet the riches at high stakes.

Snargan sits with piles of coins,
Ready to toss them one by one.
Whatever he earns, he takes for himself,
And celebrates when day is done.

Of course, sometimes this Skeith doth lose,
And then with nervous glances back,
He shrugs and heads home for the night.
Skarl's piled coins are short one stack.

Old Snargan plays a risky game
In treasure room of Meridell.
He uses one philosophy:
If no one asks, he'll never tell.



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