Nothing Rhymes With Yurble!
By Xqrly

I always wanted to do my pet a favor,
And write a poem packed with flavor,
Filled with the zesty taste of rhyme,
And dashed with oregano and a bit of thyme.

But nothing rhymes with Yurble!
Though a Yurple could be purple,
A Yurble must be purble,
But the nearest thing to that is plue!

Now Turdles can jump hurdles,
And Faeries could be hairy.
The Spyder could get lighter,
And float off upon the breeze.

So a Pteri can be merry,
And an Eyrie could be fiery,
And a Koi can be a boy (or girl),
Eating kelp with the greatest of ease.

But the Yurble, never purple, only blue,
Must sit alone and ev'ry moment rue,
The unrhyming name which would forever loom,
And bring this poem to its doom.

Geoffrey the Chia Bomber
By Neomaniac1603

Geoffrey awaits for the timer to start,
There're some green, some red, and blue!
Oh no, time to act fast!

Running around a maze of giant, stone rocks,
With the click of a button
On his water balloon gun,
Three water balloons shoot out,
And the defeats of the green
And blue are soon near.
A smile on his face as Geoffrey
Searches for the elusive red Chia,
Fastly approaching it without any fear.

A sound is set off behind him,
He turns around quickly,
Click! Click! Click!
He sets off his water balloon gun
And closes his eyes tightly
In fear of being defeated.

With no end in sight,
He opens his eyes fast
A scream bursts out,
"We'll get you someday, you little demon!"
I won! he thinks to himself
As the red Chia fades away.

The Evil Meepit Bandit
By Ldyofavalon

T'was a strange little creature,
The one that stole my juice,
They said he was a Meepit --
A bandit on the loose!
I laughed when I saw him,
He looked me in the eye...
The pest, he bit my toe,
And I began to cry!

The pain shot up my leg,
And my toe became numb,
While I stood there wincing,
He went after my thumb.
When I cried again,
The Meepit's face turned smug,
He released an evil laugh,
And fled with my mug!

I had been beaten and injured,
And without a drop to drink!
My encounter with the Meepit
Left me many thoughts to think.
Never again will I underestimate
A creature as faint and small,
As the one who stole my beverage,
And broke me like a doll.

The Lair of the Beast
By Laurelinden

Far away in a northern Tyrannian land,
In the midst of almost endless
Mountains and sand,
I heard a rumor from one
Who'd seen it firsthand,
And held a brown map
In his weathered brown hand.

"This map," said he,
Whispering and leaning down near,
"Is more than the useless paper
Which it might appear
To be; I've held it close
For many a year,
Waiting to tell all its secrets
To the right ear."

With that, he offered forward
The beaten old map,
And I, though fearing
It might be some sort of trap,
Took the map, and placed it down
To look in my lap,
And when I saw what it showed
In surprise I did clap.

But when I looked up,
The strange traveler had gone,
And all that was left
Was a quick-written note on
The table, saying, "I wish you
The best luck on
Your cave-bound journey, and do advise
Leaving at dawn."

So, naturally, it was at dawn
That I did go,
And by that evening
I saw a flickering glow
Of torchlight,
Bright against the evening's shadows,
Coming from the cave!
I laughed in joy, "Ho ho!"

It was a dark, menacing hole
Gaping before me,
So I grabbed the torch,
Took a breath, and more calmly
Stepped inside, fighting the fright
From the eerie cave's darkness,
More black than the water of the night sea.

Ahead, I could make out
In the guttering light
Of the torch a thin rope,
On the edge of my sight.
Fighting down the urge
To run screaming in fright,
I quickly climbed the rope
With fear-aided might.

On the top of the rope
Was yet another cave,
But this new one made me feel
Many times less brave,
For 'round it were tooth-like spikes,
And from it a wave
Of hot breath,
And I knew my situation was grave.

At that point I turned,
And fled with all my last speed,
Down the rope, out the cave,
Far away I hurried,
It was not until leaving
The land I wearied,
And if you are at all wise,
My warning you'll heed:

Go not to the cave in the north Tyrannian land,
Something waits past the mountains
And hot, blazing sand.
Lurking in darkness, dangerous,
Frightful, and,
So I beg you go not --
For I have seen it firsthand.

The Mystery of Mystery Island
By Tracypaper12

Ever since I stumbled upon
That island in the sea,
The only thing I've thought about,
Is "What's the mystery?"

Mystery Island, they call it,
For reasons I know not why.
I've searched every cave, every tree,
I've looked low and high.

Why not Tigersquash Island?
Or the Isle Of Coco?
Instead Mystery Island,
It's driving me loco!

There's nothing foreboding there,
Scary or dark,
It's about as mysterious,
As a walk in the park.

So I tried asking a Kougra,
A native of the isle,
He just stood there and laughed
As his face cracked into a smile.

"You're looking, my friend,
In the wrong place.
The real mystery, my friend,
Is in front of your face!"

Surely, I looked up,
And a board loomed ahead.
"Mystery Island" it read,
In letters of red.

Suddenly, I realised,
What the mystery could be!
How foolish was I?
How could I not see?

Why it's called Mystery Island,
Is still a mystery to me,
And that, my friends,
Is the real mystery.