Who Says There's No Cat in the Bongo Tree?
I have this special secret
from my child-hood
that's silly as a secret
as it's actually quite good,
and if you'd like to know it –
but promise not to tell
(either of) your parents –
read on and learn it well:
when they think you're going to bed,
take "Alice in Wonderland" instead,
open to a page randomly
and read from there, secretly;
turn off the light beside your bed
and dwell on the world that you've just read...
and gradually, rustily,
the doors will creak inside your head,
and light spills through the cracks, and you
can curiously tumble through
into a place of fantasy
where things are different, subtly;
where cats can prance in bongo trees,
where children fly, where bushes sneeze,
where cards can talk, and straight lines fork,
and paths change instantaneously,
while the cat sits watching from the bongo tree,
where bugs decide how things are spelt –
but, when loneliness is felt,
you may return back through the door,
and be a normal child once more,
warmly and safely ensconced in your bed,
with the doors shut softly inside your head.