Alice

The Opinion of the Dormouse

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

This interminable tea party is terribly boring.

We’ve moved round this table for years.

I’m not asleep, I’m listening and snoring.

I have excellent ears.

 

The Hatter was always so gloomy before.

Since Alice came here he isn’t the same

He seems to like chatting very much more

I’ve heard him whisper her name.

 

He still goes on drinking

Cups of cold tea

But I know what he’s thinking.

It’s not about me.

 

He’s never asked me which cake I prefer.

We have all her favourites each day.

He even taught her how to quadrille.

He summoned musicians to play.

 

Banana cake’s banned.

Alice dislikes it.

The birds eat cake from her hand.

She passed me a nice bit today.

 

They all love sweet Alice,

Even silly March Hare.

There are threats everyday from the palace

But Hatter and Hare, being mad, never care.

 

I know Hatter’s thinking she’s young and naïve,

But I think he’ll have a surprise.

All will be well if she doesn’t leave.

Alice is curiously wise.

All the Roses

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

the red rose and the white
standing sentinel
on each side of the path

the red rose of passion
the white for purity
so it was told to me

with time the bud unfolds
they litter history
more stories must be told

how Alice met the mad ones
walking nervously alone
in there amongst the flowers
i pondered that for hours
the red queen and the white
would haunt my childhood nights

and then we went to York
and thought of Lancaster
and roses making war
i never saw such violence
shaking petals, thrusting thorns,
tattering the tender growing rose

and then the Tudors came
the doubled rose of white and red
its petals widely spread
holding all in thrall
with gold and iron rule
while it blossomed

a treasure, was The Rose
where actors took the stage
Shakespeare came of age
its name was at the heart
emblem of poets art
that blooms as nectar overflows

now, in the garden,
i plant my roses
i plant them for their scent
i plant them for all they mean to me
they guard my families ashes
i strip away the stories
watching as their gentle petals fall

full of passing glories
but every year repeating
shining out with soft simplicity

a sign of lasting love
given from above
that’s all a rose was ever meant to be

Mad Hatters Lune

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

what’s the fuss about?
we’re crazy!
you want to be sane?

i’m not changing hats
or my heart
so come on Alice

let’s make a party
come and dance
while the night is here

don’t wake the sleepers
don’t trust them
they might wreck our dreams

Too Wise

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

What do you say
to the one who’s a true hearted friend?
the one you met last, close to the end.
Forget about passion,
forget about pain.
We’ll talk about other things.

Music and books,
Mad Hatter and Alice.
Will Arthur return again?
If we shout loud enough
do you think we can wake him ?

Too old for illusions,
too wise for that now,
no love poems here
never-never, they’re banned.
Keeping your feet on the ground
is the hardest part,
romance is easy,
i feel myself floating,
the challenge is avoiding a  fall.

We can be children and play.
It’s an adventure, that’s all.
I don’t need to say anything,
you know all i mean.
You know, as i do,
things are not as they seem.
There are monsters out there.
They wait in the dark.
Hold tight,
they wont catch us my darling
we’ll live in the light.

Well! Alice!

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

i sent a kiss to Alice
it floated in the air
i have no idea where it went
she may have been at the palace
it may have caught in her hair
i only know i sent it
it wafted about, and i lost it
for just a little while
but it reached her i think
i heard a tune, saw a wink,
it made me suddenly smile
and then i knew, however it flew
i would see her soon enough
it doesn’t matter if she is late
whatever they say, I’m the Hatter
the clocks will have to wait

Renewing Alice

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

 

An ageing Alice sits in her room
Leading a simple life.
Her big adventures are done.

An ageing Alice sits in her room,
Her once pretty face losing its’ bloom.
This is the nature of time.

An ageing Alice sits in her room
Remembering, quietly smiling,
Making a note in her diary ~~~

”The Mad Hatter sees to the deeply crazed core,
The central heart of the matter.
When he dropped in today, escaping the rain,
I was thrilled and delighted to see him again

When you look at the world in a different way
There is wonder, adventure, in each new born day.
Mad, a bit sad, never bad,
He’s the dearest friend I ever had.

Next time it rains I hope he comes back.
He reminds me so much of something I lack.
It’s always good to have a long natter.
There is wisdom aplenty in tea time chatter.”

From Alice

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

 

The Mad Hatter sees

to the deeply crazed core, the heart of the matter.

When he dropped in today , escaping the rain,

I was thrilled and delighted to see him again

 

When you look at the world in a different way

There is wonder, adventure, in each new born day

Mad, a bit sad, never bad

He’s the truest friend I ever had

 

Next time it rains I hope he comes back

He reminds me so much of something I lack

It’s always good to have a long natter

There is wisdom aplenty  in tea time chatter