_Lunetta11_
Embracing a book of velvet blue cover she whispered, "Alice, o Alice, why would you ever leave Wonderland?"
On and on the planet spin, oh days so bland! Without magic the world goes, dull and wicked and harsh. Where goes the tea time within the sleeping forest, or is there ever any? Stepping along the ticking clock, marching on without a stop, so lost, so lost.
On and on she goes, spinning 'round the falling sand, the Alice of golden locks and a dress of blue--blue as the far-off sky. Off she slips through the hole, into a world hidden; where the stars fall as rain and loneliness is but a dream.
With a spoon of imagination and a pinch of curiosity, find them, find them all: Doors hidden by the butterflies, under a Midday Moon so bright.