Your Own Wonderland to Live in

I remembered that poems always have a deeper meaning than what is portrayed on the surface.  No meaning is ever the same; one may be similar, but never the same.  I like to read poems aloud, and if I smile, cry, laugh, or frown, these emotions came from across on the page.  The written word means so much, yet we speak of it so little.

My all-time favorite poem:

A Boat Beneath  a Sunny Sky

By Lewis Carroll

A boat beneath a sunny sky,
Lingering onward dreamily
In an evening of July —
Children three that nestle near,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Pleased a simple tale to hear —
Long has paled that sunny sky:
Echoes fade and memories die:
Autumn frosts have slain July.
Still she haunts me, phantomwise,
Alice moving under skies
Never seen by waking eyes.
Children yet, the tale to hear,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Lovingly shall nestle near.
In a Wonderland they lie,
Dreaming as the days go by,
Dreaming as the summers die:
Ever drifting down the stream —
Lingering in the golden gleam —
Life, what is it but a dream?
You know, who knows whether or not this poem was really meant to be read as a real-life version of a fairy-tale.  But I think that dreaming of our own Wonderland takes no meaning.  We have to create our world and mold it to shape our hearts; and if that doesn’t quite work, then it is time to read another poem.
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