by Michael Plante

I’ve surfed the rabbit hole of illusion
a dark twisting vortex of imagination
and landed with a thud that shook the world
as the queen of hearts cried in the night.

I ate rabbit stew because he was too opinionated for my liking
tossed in some mushrooms and a caterpillar just for fun
then rode the Cheshire Cat to a tea party
wherein the Republic of Alice was formed.

Mad Hatters roamed the landscape in search of pray
wearing purple suits and blood-soaked aprons
they too seek attention of the righteous queen
for death of a nightmare they fear the most.

Harvest your fears and ride them like a pony
the chess board is set for you and I
a dance floor of death spread out in a garden
where black and white roses profusely grow.

The candor king was beheaded last night
by the sly dormouse with the cunning eye
I caught him with the axe as the dawn drew its arrow
and tucked him in my breast pocket for safe keeping.

The tortoise of time appeared on the shore
dressed like a jester he wanted in the game
crawling on his belly over broken glass
scaring the landscape in a scarlet hue.

If I could find my head I could collect my thoughts
instead they play in the void of illusion
that lay beyond the door that contains
the queen of hearts who cries in the night.

All compositions that appear on The Poet’s House are composed by Michael Plante and are subject to copyright.

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