The rose teacup….

You’ve snuck around the corner to the place nobody  ever goes 

Such an unusual garden lies ahead, filled with things you just don’t see

No really, the carousel in the corner spun out of sight landing at your toes 

And something the size of a dinner plate looks like a bumble bee 
A little note lies on the table and you just have to take a peek 

‘Welcome, make yourself at home ‘ simply written there in ink of rainbow hues

Feeling quite proud (but scared,) of the forbidden fruit you came to seek

You sit right down and decide to look for clues 
Who lives here, you think as a pot lands wobbling  on the table 

Another note around it’s rounded belly reads ‘look right ‘

Not sure what you’re meant to be seeing, but curiosity will always enable 

You swing to see the strangest roses in this garden now twilight.
It cannot really  be your head says ,as you pluck it from by your side 

I mean rose teacups however pretty do not grow on trees 

And you observe that nothing is real and your bed is where you truly bide 

Obediently, or shocked, you devour the warming brew and sugary treats 
Almost dark now a light so strange it seems there’ll be a storm 

Garden not so pleasant now it’s cast in eerie unearthly glow 

Deciding to leave, go home where there’s a hearth, fire and life is warm 

The garden starts to swirl around , done is the pretty crowded show
Get to the gate, one last glance over your shoulder you give 

To see the fancy place, has all turned to ruins and dirt and rubble 

You head back fast as you can go to the little place you live

Disbelieving what you saw and read, mind inside a protective bubble 
You slept not unlike the dead that night and woke up fresh and new 

Silly dreams I have you thought as the curtains they did billow

Thought no more about it during that day, this much is surely true 

Till climbing into bed that night, a rose teacup lay on the pillow 

©Ailsa Cawley Poetry 2015

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