A poem (pronounced Poe-em today since I'm feeling kind of upper crust) for you since Amber and Kyle just finished off a couple of class defining spell quests this morning.
Ahem . . .
Freddy Nine Lives in Chelsea Court,
loves the dueling type of sport.
Defeat him nine and not one short.
then to Moolinda you must report.
Hand Moolinda your golden coin.
And magic powers will then adjoin.
A heal that is a finger point,
surely could not disappoint?
A trip down to the throne of fire,
to get a tail, yes, to acquire,
then boil at a temperature higher,
Cool, the storm bird has what you desire!
Mr. Balestrom was so pleased,
at how his task you easily breezed,
and how the day you briskly seized!
Now your tempest won't be appeased. :-)
I know dear reader this poem was grueling,
wipe the spit from the chin you're drooling.
But, the Wizard 101 we keep refueling,
will burn brighter now with your . . .