Jellied Fingers

Time clocks and writers block turn my rational inward
I fidget in my stripped socks afraid and curious.
I’ll escape the cherry ripe monotony
By tripping
Oh so purposely
Into the rabbit hole.

There’s music at the bottom
Turning my sanity inside out.
With singing about twinkling bats and skyward tea trays.
I join the mad dancing among alabaster plates to stay insane.

I’ve come to the Mad Hatter’s Tea Party
To celebrate newfound fanciful madness.
“Why is a Raven like a writing desk?” He asks.
I respond, “They both allow the spreading of wings.”

I write my words in butter so they’ll read more smoothly.
Why not?
We’re trying the same for our time stopped watches.
And glue the book binding with jam
So when my reader turns the page with jellied fingers
The words will stick.

Hold a pointer to your tongue my Wonderland reader.
Taste the sweetness of my words.

© Rachelle Smith Stokes ~Writer Yogi

About these ads