YURBLE DAY SPECIAL

A Faerie Yurble
By Precious_katuch14

Faerie Yurble soars across azure skies,
Transparent wings beating to the wind's tune.
Violet and turquoise blur as he flies
A glistening gem by the light of noon.

A quick breeze blows past; he rides it with ease
Like a gently falling leaf from a tree.
A fortress upon pink clouds he now sees
Hovering miles and miles over the sea.

Our Yurble friend swoops into Faerieland,
Takes in all the sights, the sounds, the wonders!
Then he sets off for the castle so grand
And greets Fyora at the Hidden Tower.

"Faerie Yurble, what do you wish to buy?"
"A Royal Paint Brush, Highness, that's no lie!"

The Gift of Goparokko
By Anjie

The jungle burns with tropic heat,
Resounding tribal call.
Simmering, the sphere above,
Defiant boughs stretch tall.
He stumbles through the brush and scrub,
Eyes seeking exit fast.
Only briefly does he note,
The colours he ran past.

A second glance, a baffled pause,
How strange, how out of place!
Slowly Yurble wanders back,
Confusion etched on face.
Gingerly, the paw outstretched,
To touch the coloured block.
What are strange items doing here?
The mind doth reel with shock.

Carefully, he lifts one up,
A cube of cobalt blue.
In colours bright the others wait,
He knows not what to do.
Placing it amongst the stack,
His mind is far from clear.
Yet when the blue meets three alike,
They shimmer, disappear!

What magic has this Yurble made?
His powers must be strong!
For he controls the magic blocks,
To him they now belong!
So if your mind is tired and weak,
And seeks a baffling treat,
Find the Yurble in the trees,
And puzzle in the heat.

The Arrow Knows
By Twocents

The forest parts,
Even the birds silent in wonder.
The world is gazing upon him,
The Yurble who will plunder.

The arrow knows.

The raider pushes his headband back,
Beads of sweat sliding down his face.
His gaze pierces the shadows.
What is he looking for in this place?

The arrow knows.

The wind picks up,
And the leaves dance around him.
His bow is held in a loose grip,
And his face looks mighty grim.

The arrow knows.

Pushing forward,
The Yurble sniffs the air.
A shift of the wind brings a scent,
Now smirking, this seems a deadly affair.

The arrow knows.

A quick step pads across the forest,
And the raider catches the movement.
Stalking the shadow quietly,
It's time for effort to be spent.

The arrow knows.

The shadow has stopped,
And the Yurble raises his bow.
The arrow releases quietly,
Following the winds' flow.

The arrow knows.

A small thud, a collapse,
The Yurble finally stands.
The shadow fell to the raider's might,
That which he commands.

The arrow knew.

The Yurble Farmer's Lament
By Lily2b18

Why is it that every day, they always come?
If they're a marching band, my garden's their drum.
It makes me feel like I'm in such a slum,
Because I'm infested with Slorgs.
I'm sorry, so sorry, for being so glum,
But I simply can not, can never succumb
To what they want my garden to become;
A gigantic Slorg smorgasbord.

It seems quite ironic that, to make them disappear,
I shoot more at them, and if I miss... oh dear.
Well then, more and more will be found here!
I'm in quite a bit of a pickle.
But, if you were me, you'd have cause to fear,
You wouldn't be grinning from ear to ear,
In fact, you'd most likely be frustrated to tears...
Or maybe I'm just being fickle.

But when your living is growing food,
And these little pests are being so rude,
As to coming and going, and always to intrude,
It makes my outlook a tad grey.
I suppose it's not such a cause to brood,
And I shouldn't have such a bad attitude,
But those Slorgs and I, we've got quite a feud!
Just please! Help me get them away!

Mirage (to a Faerie Yurble)
By Larkspurlane

She seeds illusions,
Dreams to make dreamers
Stir in their sleep as they envision
The mauve and the turquoise,
The flitting wings, the being
Whose every movement is a defiance
Of gravity's pull.

She is like a plant that flowers
Only at night, floating through sleep's
Dissolving memories, rising and falling
On the threshold of dreaming and reality,
Moonlight in her mane,
Evening's dusk in her eyes,
Night breezes in her wings --

And the planet slowly tilts,
And light streams in ribbons to caress
The dreamer's closed lids,
And the dreams evaporate,
Dewdrops in morning heat.

YRB-X1
By _Razcalz_

Now activating bootup switch...
99%... 100% -- Startup sequence done!
*BZZT* Good afternoon; I am Yurbot,
Or YRB-dash-X-one.
Organic units, welcome to
Facility of tests.
I am here to assist you --
Awaiting your requests.

Yurble bot aboard Sloth's ship,
With database equipped.

Biological speech detected,
Now running speechrecord.EXE
[Recording] "We need to find the real token,
Which, to our plan, is key..."
Scanning vicinity: 99%... 100%
Scan complete (elapsed time=eleven)
Number of tokens detected:
Six-five-two four-nine-one three-three-seven.

Rods and heat test, acid blue,
Fetching black holes too.

Exterior query: "What is the density
Of metal Kadoatite?"
Searching now (term=kadoatite)
Result(s) 1 of 3, recite:
The density of Kadoatite is
23.45463452g/cm cubed.
Activating metalcount.exe:
Checking supply of tubes.

And so it went, until
The search was at last fulfilled.

[Recording speech] "We found the real token!"
"Gorix, what about this mess?"
"Just leave it, Cylara.
Yurbot will take care of it, yes?"
'I... what? After the help I have given you!'
Running rage.exe, anger program; frown.
'YOU BIOLOGICAL UNITS WILL PAY!'
WARNING: OVERHEATING! 'MUST... CALM... DOWN--'

The Rubble in the Hall of Heroes
By Cookybananas324

He sweeps and complains,
Complains and sweeps,
And over the great mess
He nearly weeps,
For there's something different
About this stone and dust.
It was once the Sleeper's statue,
She who broke Altador's trust.

He cleans and he cleans,
But he can't complete his chore.
When he leaves, the job's near done,
But by morning, there is more!
Either some cruel saboteur
Has been undoing his work
Or the statue itself
Has a rather odd quirk!
The Darkest Faerie, perhaps,
Is loath to leave the Hall,
Even though she is no hero
And knows of her statue's fall.
Even bits of broken stonework
Are a symbol which remains,
So she won't allow the Janitor
To remove it by his pains.

So the Janitor, eternally
Must work from dusk 'til dawn.
Even knowing that it's futile,
He must wearily labour on.
So don't begrudge this Yurble
The occasional bad temper...
Wouldn't you be angry too
If your job lasted forever?

The Caretaker
By Concertogreat_8

A soft sound, a sweet little dell,
The crumble of earth,
A mouldering and fetid smell.

The locks click with rust,
The wind mourns souls,
Floorboards rot away to dust.

The voices are calling now,
Soft and low hum,
A calling tune, a whispering howl.

A haunted court, a hidden wood,
A graveyard still as death,
Tombstones rise, a dead white hood.

A cowering little Ixi weeps,
Beneath the old bare tree,
And up he comes, and up he sweeps.

Dark night, shadow on the moon,
A hunch-backed figure makes his way,
Murmuring a mournful tune.

Someone's stolen the index book,
Someone's made off with the records,
Alone in the graveyard, they snuck a look.

The Caretaker moves with a creak,
Ice has settled in the Yurble's old bones,
Wand'ring round all those old stones.
Gloom settles like a pall,
The night is thick with foggy veil,
And the Caretaker walks the ruined hall.

Yurble Raider
By Chirigami

I gaze into the blue horizon
And watch my arrow flying strong.
Of all the days I've let it fly,
Not once has it been wrong.

I trust despite its awkward motion,
It will reach the final mark,
In snow, in hail, in sun, in wind,
In great light or plunging dark.

I've lived a life of greed and plunder,
Always trying to beat the best,
But I've since realised despite my riches,
That's not life's true test.

The thing to cherish now and always
Are those whom I hold dear,
And I hope my beloved family
Will be with me for many years.

But that's not to say I don't still enjoy
The simple poetry
That comes with a vacant sky,
My arrow and me.

I am still the Yurble Raider,
If in nothing else but heart,
But living as a good Neopet
Truly makes me a work of art.