Speak gently; Love doth whisper low
The vows that true hearts bind;
And gently Friendship's accents flow;
Affection's voice is kind.
The dreams of those extraordinary imaginings in which she used to visualize were almost absent from her mind. The countless days she endured in her life in the moors of the English country gave her bore. The high class rules and norms she had to live by almost took the colour away from her dreams. Only since a child did she come to speculate what life must be like outside of this one. For days she pressed herself against the garden trees and daydreamed the unimaginable.
She questioned that journey she underwent those many years ago, recalling taking a glimpse of a rabbit with a pocket watch. It fascinated her, and to not have followed it she would have never plummeted into the depths of a strange world birthed from a reverie. Although knowing, it was just a dream. Just a dream, she thought, although it felt very real. To memorise the places she visited, the people she encountered, she never imagined smoking caterpillars or grinning cats to permeate her mind.
She is an imaginative one, her mother always said. The child used to question how this happened. One day, she was three inches high underneath a forest of mushrooms, the next she was many feet tall with her neck stretching through the canopies. It was a peculiar experience.
To return another time again, a mirror brought her into the world. With large chess like fields and chess like queens, it was a wonder how she ever imagined these. And the logic they gave her; even if she did not understand half of it. She may have found it all to be nonsense, but deep down inside she loved every waking moment - that is until she did awaken...
That was what she used to call it. Of course, it was a land of wonders, a land of topsy turvy ways: the uncanny creatures, the talking animals, the card-like soldiers and the cloth-wearing beasts. Curiouser and Curiouser... After those visits, she wondered if she could ever visit again. But the memories of it had departed, until the years that went by...
She is now at the age of seventeen, and a beautiful little woman she is! Her golden curls and her sky blue eyes, her rosy cheeks and her gentle smile. Although the virtuousness she used to have may have perished if only little, her attributes to become a lady were beginning to demonstrate.
If she is to be a lady, a lady must have a husband, her mother said to her once. The thought of having a husband was not all to her fancy; she would rather have the liberty. She was not interested in any of the tedious gentlemen whom she was introduced to. None of them were of what she liked. None of them could sweep her off her feet. Too dull, she thought.
At least maybe one day there could be a man that could stride into her life. But just is he enough to charm her? Although men were the last thing on her mind, she did always wonder what the devotion could be like.
Now, this golden haired girl's life consists of helping her parents and doing the chores. She had to act lady like, but all of these rules were enough to make her scream. She had so much life in her that was prohibited to be revealed. Perhaps in a world where the abnormal is accepted and whimsical is forever, she would gladly dispose of this life and trade it for there. And now, even if she thinks her journey was over, soon Alice will know, it has only just begun...
Remember the peculiar; the beasts you meet,
Welcome is not dull; the delirious are a treat,
Where rabbits know time and cats always smile,
The world of wonder is nice trip every while.
Where hares hold parties, and caterpillars smoke,
Don't be taken aside by the charming and funny folk,
Where poetry is present and songs are sung,
Don't think now that this journey has just begun.
You may be in awe by the wonders you see,
Don't think I'm lying when I say you'll find glee,
So follow me down the rabbit hole, and take my hand,
Let me show you the world, the world called Wonderland.