"Tea time, tea time, it's always tea time!" the big, little man announces, inviting me

to join the party.

And I, vulnerable yet clever oblige, thinking him to be the queerest of all the

Wonderland characters.

He contrasts himself often like winter cold does to summer heat.

His eyes, green as Arrowhead pine trees, taunt me with secrets I will never know.

The mad hatter, he thrusts a cup of magical tea at me, now.

"Will it make me grow smaller?" I question, hope brimming in my lake blue eyes.

My mannerisms are like those of the dorm mouse who hides himself in the sugar

bowl, like an ostrich sticking his head in the sand.

Hiding, always hiding.

I sprinkle sugar grains into my tea and they glitter like Tinkerbell's pixie dust; another

story.

Or perhaps each story is one and the same:

Never-never land, Jack and Jill's hill, the witch's gingerbread house, and of course

Wonderland.

No matter which land we reside in, we cannot escape our fears and secrets.

I am drawn to him like a magnet.

Why Mad Hatter, why won't you let me in?

For one year now, I have longed for your heart

But you keep it out of my reach, on the other side of the looking glass.

You, you egotistical, clandestine fool, tell me why you lock me out!

You are a jigsaw puzzle I cannot solve, a game I cannot win.

I wonder why I still bother playing ...