whitby poet - White Rabbit.

White rabbits in the clouds again, and other things I cant explain,
Like washing drying in the sun, and white lace curtains being spun,
And faces smiling through the lace, soft voices from another place,
That ask me never to forget those starlit nights when we first met,
Each graceful silken countenance looked only for another chance
To muse again on sunny days, on other worlds and other ways,
On muslin air stitched satin rain, and days when we will meet again
In dream held precious memories, as fingers touch across life’s seas.


As dormice waken in the Spring, they rub their eyes and softly sing
Of winter slumbered sights that gleam, and every silver silent dream
That traced it’s fingers on their head while they slept soundly in their bed,
Of Summer days that beckoned long, of whispered winds and Robin’s song
And in the lark winged Summer flow, with natures glories still aglow
They’ll feast on blackberries and haws, while rabbit friends on far off shores
Think fondly of those long gone times, of parties, songs and nursery rhymes,
While dormice rub their eyes once more, and doze just like they did before.


And as the visions gently pass, came Alice through the looking glass,
Behind her from the rabbit hole, White rabbit sang with heart and soul
His watch was dangling on it’s chain, in jewel painted Summer rain
He knew at once that he was late, and thought that Alice wouldn’t wait,
But when he saw her standing there, in white lace dress and golden hair
He hugged her with his memories, as fingers touched across life’s seas,
And faces smiled upon the air, at stories that they used to share
For muslin air stitched satin rain can heal the most incessant pain…

whitby poet

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/white-rabbit-4/