Through the Looking GlassA Poem by Xanthous CrowFor a friend, wherever you are. I hope you're back in wonder land.
At night I hear them call to me,
Promising dreams and adventures extraordinary A beautiful world - (brand new and shiny!) -, as far as my eye can see A world where the trees are giant - (or are they small?) - and the air filled with lilting notes of the canary Into the looking glass I go Onto a carpet of velvet grass Clouds in shapes of pictures does the sky show Encapsulated in this little world of glass And I meet the cat, I meet the hare The hatter, mad, with his tea The twins, the girl, the worm are there All waiting - waiting - waiting for me I feel your hand inside mine As we go meet the queen and her soldiers The queen, tall and proud, upon her throne - above all! - where her diadem does shine We watch her bark her orders - (something about off with our heads?) - I stare at you; you promised you would be sober. The soldiers go hither and thither Scritch and scratch upon their board O! how is it here that time does slither! I am put to death by the sword It is not enough, I say, I want more The needle tears another hole The snow, for you, opens the door Back to never-land, amidst those gay and airy souls The little girl warned me: No, don't! Don't eat those mushrooms! These spots before my eyes, butterflies, what could they be? But before I have a chance, I am dragged back to reality, back to the cold, black room - (which stinks of prudence and despair) - Back unto reality, my world is falling apart at the seams I long to go through the glass, back to wonder-land But the chrome reminds me it is fleeting - (a dream!) - A perennial torture I must withstand Will I never go back to never-never-never land? © 2012 Xanthous CrowFeatured Review
Reviews
|
Stats
87 Views
1 Review Added on March 25, 2012 Last Updated on March 25, 2012 AuthorXanthous CrowMount Erebus, AntarcticaAbout"Behold her, single in the field, Yon solitary Highland Lass! Reaping and singing by herself; Stop here, or gently pass! Alone she cuts and binds the grain, And sings a melancho.. more..Writing
|