Wander, wander Round and round. Rounder, rounder Safe and sound. I am no Alice in Wonderland But speaking of it, can wonder exist in any land? The magic, the sparkle Just a figment of my overactive imagination. But if we can't build castles in the sky, Can dreaming be worth at all? Magnolia blossoms, water hyacinths, They grace the desertification of my landscape. What is real? What is reel? What is pure? What is rancid? Can ideals be established, Or reality be construed, When the best of the best Is a standard set by man alone? Curiouser, curiouser, Can such an English be termed as bad? Beautifuller, beautifullest, Gorgeousness isn't confined to linguistic limitations. Maybe if we bent rules a little, Maybe if we broke through societal expectations. Maybe if we had a little courage, Maybe if we had Tinker Bell's pixie dust, We would realize, That the magic outside, Is nothing, but The spectacular in us. Serendipity or is it?
