The Tea Party.

Here is something different. This is my take on Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll.

“Where am I,” wauled the babe tersely.
In the dark, her eyes shined with unshed tears.
“I liked where I was. It was nice and warm.”
She toddled forward with an unsteady walk.
“Can anyone tell me? Tell me? Tell me?”

“Oh, oh, oh, dear Alice, you are at the tea party,” exclaimed Hatter Mad.
He slapped his gloved hands together as a opossum smile crept over his mouth.
“And here you will stay until the end of dazzling days.”
With a wave of his hand, the clearing was no longer dim.
“Then to the white, wonderful wispy skies of Heaven.”

“But, what if I don’t like tea?” demanded the minor.
She stared crossly at the mountainously tall man.
He smiled at her as tea cups rained down
Atop the lengthy table which was decked desirably.
“What then?”

“You don’t like tasty, translucent tea? Oh, well swell,” sighed Hatter Mad.
He stared at the trees hued in emeralds and majentas
Where a corpulent cat lounged, smiling drowsily.
“Would luscious, lovely, lemony lemonade be of your liking?
We have lemons…you make lemonade!”

“I do not want lemonade. I want to go home,” says the girl,
As succulent, sour fruit fell down at her feet on the ground.
She watched as they rolled away from her feet
And started sprouting with such folly.
“My, my how queer that was!”

“This is your home! Can’t you see,” replied Hatter Mad,
Sweeping his gloved hand towards the table in the forest.
“The chairs for your present, your future, your past.”
He flung his gloves from one chair to the next to emphasize his points.
“Fill the cups with your hopes…your fears…your dreams.”