NIMMO DAY SPECIAL

Sssidney: Nimmo Scratchcard Seller
By Scarvogue

Beneath a dark purple sky,
where stars are hidden
behind thick clouds of grey,
there sits a quiet fairground,
where it's always dark they say.

Ghosts of hazy blue,
with eyes ablaze with red,
wander through the dark,
so silently they glide,
through this morbid park.

Tucked away in a corner,
there lies a yellow house
with no trim or fancy lock
and no white picket fence,
but here a Nimmo sells his stock.

Sssidney, they call him,
a Nimmo garbed in purple rags.
He sells cards to scratch,
some lucky and some not,
but you may find a match.

Three of the same
is all the luck you need
to hit it big or hit it small.
You could win a little bit
or you could win it all.

"I'll take just one,"
you say with confidence,
and hand the Nimmo your money.
He gives you a card in return
and looks at you a little funny.

You scratch it once,
a grave appears,
telling you to Rest in Peace.
You scratch another, but you see
nothing but old grease.

"That one's blank,"
Sssidney says, with an evil smile.
You scratch a third, desperate now.
This time you get a bat
and sweat gathers on your brow.

Two more blank,
and then another bat,
there's only one to go.
You hold your breath,
then you scratch it slow.

The circle is blank, it's a loss,
and you turn to walk back home
without any luck today.
"Don't go!" Sssidney says,
"For there are more cards to play!"

Sssidney smiles to himself,
for he knows the truth:
that Neopians try every day,
but always lose and never win,
it's how Sssidney makes his pay.

Nimmo's Pond
By Nut862

Floating alone on a clear still pond,
Not a ripple on the pure fresh water,
Floating under an overhanging frond,
Not a sign of any living creature,
Floating to the banks and beyond,
Never expecting a thing to occur.

Then there are lily pads floating nearby,
Coming alongside the lone Nimmo.
There are lily pads in ample supply,
Upsetting the water's gentle flow.
There are lily pads drawing ever nigh,
Giant lilies with small ones in tow.

Now the Nimmo's solitude is spoiled,
His haven choked with green intruders.
Now the tranquil pond's waters are roiled,
Marred by these leafy saboteurs.
Now the Nimmo finds himself embroiled,
In a fight as the lilies he deters.

How terrible it is to lose his peace,
The once beautiful clear water now green.
How awful it is that he cannot cease,
Shooting lilies till there are none to be seen.
How dreadful it is that they always increase;
Nimmo's Pond shall never more be clean!

The Mental Prison of Nocan Vish
By Mamasimios

Nocan Vish, burly Nimmo,
'Tis revenge that fires his soul.
Destroyed are his kind, enslaved his kin,
His grief a bottomless hole.

He fills that void with adventure,
Soothes pain by dealing pain,
And never will he deign abandon
His malice, his grudge campaign.

The wrath, that irresistible impetus,
Fastens stalwart sword to hand.
He slices a path across Neopia,
Leaves a jagged scar upon the land.

And yet what others do not see
Are the scabrous scars within,
The hole, the void that will not fill,
The ache beneath the skin.

When he appears as though a monster,
Blade raised high above his head,
Who would dare to offer friendship
To such a one who inspires dread?

And so Nocan Vish is surely doomed
To continue this solitary undertaking
With grief embraced and wrath inflamed
In a mental prison of his own making.

Gorunda the Wise
By Kina105

In the dim silver light of the fading moon,
Seeping through the gaps of the trees
An aging Nimmo stands,
Her head held high,
Her face as wrinkled as a prune.

A staff hewn from wood clutched in her hand,
Her skin so bland,
Her skin so blue,
Her staff of yew,
Tapping against the ground,
Beating gently, beating slowly,
Like a pulsing heartbeat.

Her eyes flare like wildfires,
The shade of a ruby bathed in sunlight,
Glittering and sparkling.
Alight with shrewdness,
Experiences flashing in those eyes.

To get to her, you must cross
A foreboding swamp filled with traps,
Waiting to capture you in its grasp.
Ahead lies an ultimate test,
To prove your bravery and your wits,
But don't protest,
Young one,
For this test shall see
Who you really turn out to be.
A quest for wisdom lies ahead,
Leap forward with hope,
Dodge the cages, dodge the ropes,
You must get to the other side,
Where the history of Neopia lies.

At last, you make it to the other side,
Where the history of Neopia lies,
Awaiting you is Gorunda the Wise,
Her features amazed, her features kind,
"Welcome, young one," she says.
"Come with me.
And I shall tell you the history
Of this world that's been prospering for long,
And will continue to remain strong."

You follow her to her little shack,
You follow her inside,
You follow her with eyes so wide,
And all this time with a graceful stride.

The two of you sit by the firelight,
Gorunda the Wise tells you tales
Of the greatest Neopias to grace the land.
She tells of wars and battles,
She tells you of kings and queens,
And all this time,
Her voice is serene.

And now it's time to head home,
You bid Gorunda farewell,
Your brain filled with knowledge
That you have just gained.

Gorunda still remained
In that little shack,
Waiting for you to come back,
You smile, your eyes proud,
Because of the wisdom you gained
And now that this journey has come to an end,
You have made a shrewd new friend.

Teylor Nix: A Yooyuball Star
By Jayo289

A red blur rushes across the field,
Faster than the speed of light?
From left to right, the crowd all cheer,
He gives opposition such a fright.

He's got the ball, and then with ease
It flies straight into that big net.
Past the goalkeeper falling left,
Whose face meets palm; he's so upset.

It's then that the red blur stops dead
And absorbs the cheers surrounding him.
It's Nimmo star, Teylor Nix, of course,
Looking fit -- he's looking slim.

Hula skirts blow in the breeze,
As Nix celebrates another goal.
He certainly deserves all the praise,
After all, he's on a roll.

But Teylor has little time for fun,
It's back into this tense ol' game.
Another goal, and then three more;
Perfect, nobody has better aim.

The whistle blows, the game is done,
Teylor Nix has won over the crowd.
Time for celebration, all night long,
Time for Teylor to scream out loud.

Gorunda the Wise
By Iloenchen

Few have ever travelled that far,
Even fewer have ever found her;
The wise Nimmo lives in a secluded hut,
Solitude is what she does prefer.

Deep within the Haunted Woods,
Somewhere at its western edge,
Gorunda the Wise guards her wisdom
In her hut on top of a ledge.

Sitting up there, above the swamp,
She watches over her small realm;
Thinks of new traps to construct
While resting in the shade of her elm.

Nobody knows exactly for how long
Gorunda the Wise has hidden there.
She does not like to give out her age,
And those who've talked to her are rare.

One thing everyone's sure about though --
Gorunda the Wise is very old.
Secrets from the beginning of Neopia
Are amongst the wisdom she does hold.

If you have a question to be answered,
Seek the Nimmo if you so dare.
But remember in the back of your head,
That finding her is really rare!

The Nimmo's Pond
By Fleaf

Tranquil is this haven, still,
The window of finest glass.
A mirror to the world beyond,
A place where time does pass.

A-sitting on his leafy pad,
A Nimmo watches the sky.
A-watching the rainbow Koi,
That drift lazily on by.

But suddenly, a breeze is blown,
The lily sent a-reeling,
The Nimmo clings on in dismay,
His voice a-set to pealing.

Traversing, the lily goes,
A-breaking ripples here,
The Nimmo's feelings of pretence
A-vanish in the air.

The Magical Bookshop Nimmo
By Dragonstorm_75

Have you ever sought one book?
One that taught you how to cook,
Or maybe even play the rook?
Then the Nimmo knows just where to look!

He works his shop both day and night,
Need some help? He is quite polite!
With his blue hands he stands them tall,
Each book in every single stall.

When he's done he sits on tomes,
And in his mind he leaps and roams.
As he reads his little red book,
A noble path he has betook!

So if you ever want a scroll,
You don't need to take that stroll!
The Nimmo will go and find it for you,
Without complaint and without rue.

Bookshop Nimmo, we thank you:
This poem is a gift, long overdue.

A Meal with Bonnie Pip!
By Anjie

Where food has made the tables full
And seen the scales tip,
There is one Nimmo all do know,
I speak of Bonnie Pip!
Slight of frame, a slender lad,
With large webbed Nimmo feet.
He's just a scrap, a tiny thing!
But how that boy can eat!

You wouldn't think it at a glance,
But some say he's the best.
Eating huge meals in one gulp,
For Pip? It's no big test.
I've seen him guzzle twelve bread rolls,
And never break a sweat.
He'll munch them down like they're a treat!
He's not been beaten yet.

Pip devours snack and meal,
(So thin! Where does it go?)
Once meal is done, he calls for more!
At glimpse of food, eyes glow.
In taverns where the Food Club meet,
They raise a glass up high.
"Three cheers, my friends, for Bonnie Pip!
He's sure one hungry guy!"

They sit and tell a tale each,
Of snacks from ages past,
Of times he's finished ten-course meals,
And done so rather fast.
Pip just takes a humble bow,
(Would not wish to be rude!)
Then sits again and clears his throat,
And calls for yet more food!