Their Toys

Many, many years ago when the Beaumont kids had grown and gone, I resurrected their broken toy pieces, made this wreath and sprayed it gold.  In those days gold spray paint was the first "go to" for creative Moms. For a long time this little "work of art" has hung on my bedroom door, gradually collecting mermaids and dust.  I think it belongs here.

Like Alice, 

I am tall or small

and falling, change like leaves to gold.

Arriving at the Hatter’s Tea

I smile, and chat, and quite agree

no one has ever seen me old,

and yet I’ve grown.

And you are there at chess with me

although I never learned the game.

We bow and change from square to square,

trying to see beyond the board.

Nothing’s the same.

Then I am on the path alone.

The Cheshire smile is fading fast;

the rabbit’s clock is running slow.

I don’t know where I need to go.

Still I watch the plot unfold,

just because I’m never told

what’s happening next.