Mad Tea Party

The first poem I ever wrote. May 28th, 2008.

The Mad Hatter pours tea.

With an upsidedown flair,

as the Cheshire Cat stands on his head.

The white rabbit stays frantic as ever.

The March-Hare is laughing

madly, about the Mouse's poem.

Young Alice, poor Alice.

Tied to her chair.

Her words cut off

with an axe along with her head.

Who did such a thing to poor Alice?

Not the cards, nor the King or the Queen.

Not the flowers, nor the

cattipillar or the doorknob.

No, not at all.

The axe rests in the

hands of the Mad Hatter.

His tea cup bloody and cracked.

What did you exspect?

I mean, he is mad after all.

Reviews

[V]

Wow. Loved this! perfect example of how mad the mad hatter really is

[Remember Courage]

That was a really beautiful piece. I loved the the last line a lot it really pulled this whole poem together. "I mean he is mad after all" The whole naming of who didn't kill her and narrowing down to the suspects was really cute. I enjoyed the whole description of the Mad Hatters tea cup becoming cracked and tainted with little alice's blood...
-Courage

[Kelly Catherine.]

Absolutely lovely. I would cherish the thought of hearing The Mad Hatters meniachal laugh and young Alice's cries in pain. But that;s just me.
Lovely poem Vivi,
Dina

[DANGER]

I wasn't invited! :(