Of Fears, Foes And Friends

To "gyre" is to go round and round like a gyroscope. To "gimble" is to make holes like a gimlet.'
`And "the wabe" is the grass-plot round a sun-dial, I suppose?' said Alice, surprised at her own ingenuity.

when the sun pulled up her covers
too early in the evening,
a glimpse of a handsketched lace frock
a mass of curly hair
and a question

that was all it took for her to catch the dying smile

among the painted gardens, you led me
through the tulgey woods, you led me
by the TumTum tree, you led me

and let go of my hand just when we were called downstairs for dinner

it would trouble me to think
that perhaps my grown-up hands
were now too big for your little ones

was that why, alice?
was that why we could be friends no more?

and then, there you were
just like you used to be
whispering in my ears
telling me,

we've been here before, you and i,
to see the vorpal sword strike its foe
and now you shall see again
to remember what you know you know

nor scarlet queens, nor croquet games
and no tea-pots, smoke-rings nor hatters
knew what you and i had felt

when the menacing jaws of our manxome foe
glittered in the moonlight

and now, you had slain your foe, and i my fear

it was time to leave

you smiled at me, that conspiratorial smile
your ink-and-paper fingers
entwined in mine

and i knew i would not lose you again