WdC Celebration crosses to Wonderland

The glitter shone, the candles burned
the air was warm and bright
the invitees all talked and laughed
and chattered through the night
while tucked away, I watched and wrote
so glad to have this site.

My watch was ticking sulkily
with butter in its gears
because he thought it wasn’t fair
to celebrate the years
and not the seconds that he marked
with ticking in my ears.

A walrus and a carpenter
went walking hand in hand,
and stopped to interrupt my poem
with talk of brooms and sand
and mustaches that sweep one’s chin
and pigs with rubber bands,

“If seven maids had seven mops
and tubs of rubber glue,
do you think,” the walrus said,
“that they could catch the flu?”
“Oh yes,” replied the carpenter,
“and baby oysters, too.”

The lion and the unicorn
engaged to play croquet,
swearing that they’d only spar
now every other day—
“On the morrow, yesterday,
but never fight today.”

I tuned them out, because I’d found
a dormouse in a pot,
who sidled up beside me, close,
and cleared his throat a lot,
I turned to him and told him that
I couldn’t leave this spot.

“Oh deary me,” the dormouse said,
a blush upon his face,
“I plucked my courage up to ask
if you could leave your place.
They’re setting up the music now,
to have a caucus race.”

So, round and round, black, yellow, blue,
and purple—see them shine
the red cases marked arrows to
direct the conga line
I sighed, and swore that come next year
I’d try to be on time.

line count: 42