Down the Rabbit-Hole
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Poem by: Bridget Kennedy
Down the Rabbit-Hole
There are no signs for rabbit-holes
(There really ought to be)
For rabbit-holes are dangerous things
For little girls like me.
Nobody warned me of the fact
That rabbits served the Queen
Or that a rabbit-hole could hold
The strangest creatures seen.
I fell down unassumingly,
For no one ever said
That rabbit-holes were home to such
As hatters off their head.
I warn you not to cry down there,
Unless you swim quite well--
And if you go through little doors,
Keep track of where you fell.
Down there are children turned to pigs
And lots of pepper in,
And cats with tails that vanish quick
But longer-lingering grins.
If tea delights you, DO NOT STOP!
Just keep along your way.
And even if you starve, avoid
The mushrooms anyway!
Down there, the Queen plays mock-croquet
With mallets that are birds
And all the balls are little mice
Who cannot say a word.
When with the Queen, you may as well
Forget the things you've read,
For all your finest manners
Willl not let you keep your head.
The thing about the rabbit-holes
Is no one ever told
The tales about the tunnels
And the wild things they hold.
Just keep away from rabbit-holes,
And try to keep in mind:
"All wonderous things are dangerous!"
(But mirrors should be fine).
© Copyright 2020 Bridget Kennedy. All rights reserved.
Comments
Brilliant work, Bridget!
Wonderfully written. I truly love this. Thank you for writing it and for sharing it. Bravo!
What a great, rhythmic, musical poem, Bridget! I am so envious.
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