this got away from me. with apologies to Lewis Carroll. |
my sister claimed it was a dream. that’s wrong—I know what I have seen, for nothing’s quite as it would seem— through the looking glass. I saw him, pocket watch in hand behind the pane of liquid sand and slipped through into wonderland— chasing the white rabbit. he disappeared, but I was caught within the web my chase had wrought of nonsense rhymes and bunny plots— the way of the red queen. we painted roses, played croquet, sang songs with oysters on the bay, while the white rabbit led the way— into the looking glass. the queen and I, we made some tarts, each one a perfect work of art, their absence broke the red queen’s heart— the thief was the white rabbit. off with his head! came the attack. knights marched up and rooks marched back white into red, red into black— they followed the red queen. I blinked, and chess turned into war, the jabberwocky gave a roar the dormouse even broke his snore— behind the looking glass. and trumpets sound a martial chord. as I set foot onto the board, tight in my hand, the vorpal sword— to fight for the white rabbit. I ate the mushroom, grew too tall, and all the cards blew past the wall, I picked her up, so very small— my little doll, red queen. so, what was what and who was right? and who would dare deny my sight? I chased the rabbit--he was white. I met the queen, so full of spite. I beat them all, I won my fight, and came back home—and this despite a nasty jabberwocky bite that aches, now, even as I write about my future—dim, or bright. I passed behind the glass that night, and found an old and chatty knight— a'sitting on the gate. line count: 48 Author's Note ▼ Prompt for: Jan 17, 2016 ▼ |