Hatter

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
"Sipping on a half cup of tea,
A snack of butterfly bread and death berries..."

Submitted: February 19, 2014

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Submitted: February 19, 2014

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The Hatter

Sipping on a half cup of tea,
A snack of butterfly bread and death berries.
Stirring with barley grass,
And a spider on the edge of my hat.

Adorned with a Roman pocket watch,
Painted rose and a ribbon blotched.
A tailcoat of black and refined,
With a card in my top hat, a heart of nine.

Conversing with a mouse and desert hare,
Of the jabberwocky and bandersnatch beware.
For Underland, may we declare,
Lies within an everlasting nightmare.

A twisted smile upon my face
“Come and sit down, enjoy this place!”
Handing to her a dead bouquet
“A gift for your un-birthday!”

They sit the girl in an ornamented chair,
Feathers, glass beads, and animal bones it bears,
Sitting still in her blood stained dress
She looked like a doll, her face expressionless.

Looking at her I ponder,
“She is still missing something, what can it be? I wonder…”
Removing my hat with a flared bow,
I dig within its depths for what might be found.

A small stuffed purple cat,
Is what came to me in my hat.
So I place it on her head;
“Almost! Now something for bloodshed!” 

Now searching in my tea pot,
The first thing I found was a slip knot.
“That won’t do, I need something else!”
As I tossed it behind me, and gave the mouse a welt. 

I looked again and what did I find?
Something simple yet so sublime!
Retrieving it, the cold steel gave me shivers,
What I now had was a set of blue scissors.

Stabbing them into the arm of the chair
Spinning in circles I declare;
“There! Time to start the celebration!”
So I leap into my set in anticipation

Creatures emerge from out of nowhere
Like fish with feathers that soar through the air,
Some dogs with bull’s heads and tails,
And royal butterflies that wail.

I arrange myself, so a smile could come from a frown
With my bear feet up and my head down
“Oh dear, I cannot see.”
So I tap my chair: 1, 2, 3…

The seat then grew 4 ft. taller
As everyone around me stated to chatter
But only the girl was silent and still
She had a complexion at only the odd would say is ill

Ringing a bell and hearing its chime
“Now we can begin, it’s Tea Time!”
The forest clearing now filled with noise
With the light shining through the leaves; turquoise

Conversing with a mouse and desert hare,
And a girl in a dress with tares
And Underland, may we declare,
Lies within an everlasting nightmare.


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