Tag Archives: Alice Adventures in Wonderland

Alice in Wonderland Christmas story

Chapter Four

A Most Unexpected Encounter

After placing her foot onto the first step of the escalator, and then holding on tightly to the fast-moving banister, Alice began rising from the ground.

“This is indeed a fast escalator,” she said as she tried to admire the countryside that was soon far below. “It’s a pity it’s so fast, though, I might have enjoyed the view immensely if I had risen at a more leisurely pace.”

As the picturesque countryside grew smaller and smaller beneath her, the speed of the escalator increased, forcing Alice to hold on for dear life in the increasingly blustery conditions that she was exposed to. Nevertheless, Alice was enchanted by the many wonderfully coloured birds she saw flying above and below her, and all of them enjoying the weather more than her. “Oh, this wind is just too much, “she complained, trying to stop her hair from flying about as fast as the birds. With her hair flapping wildly in her eyes, Alice never saw the top of the escalator as she approached it. And tumbling ungainly off the top step, she made an ungainly entrance to the top of the world.

On hands and knees, Alice inspected the place she had entered, hoping to see the White Rabbit’s neat house, and thus putting her silly game of catch up at an end. But she didn’t. It wasn’t. All that she saw was snow, snow and yet more snow.

“It’s so cold up here,” she said, shivering, her teeth chattering like mad, “this must surely be the top of the world. I must have wished too hard, and gone all the way to the North Pole itself!”

It began snowing. At first Alice danced around in delight, marvelling at the beautiful particles falling upon her. But in spite of their beautiful appearance, these snowy particles were cold, so cold Alice soon realised that she had to find something warmer to wear, and fast. “A fur coat, a hat and some gloves are what I need,” she said, “lest I catch my death of cold out here. But where will I find such things, when all that I can see is snow?” Slapping her arms around her back, Alice tried her best to keep warm. “And a pair of fur boots, if I do say so myself, will keep my toes snugly warm,” she added.

The snow fell heavier and heavier, and thicker and thicker until poor Alice was almost totally covered by the white stuff. Shaking her head, setting free the white particles that had settled upon it, Alice wished and wished and then wished again, that someone – anyone – might come to save her from being frozen to death.

Bells, Alice heard the sound of bells in the distance. “Where are they?” she said, her eyes searching the frozen landscape, with intent. “Oh, where can they be?” she huffed, trying to see through the heavily falling snow. Then she saw something, Alice saw something coming closer and closer. “I wonder what it might be?” she said, straining her eyes, trying to see the mysterious object.

“Whoa, whoa,” a voice boomed, “whoa.”

Alice blinked; only half believing her eyes.

“Whoa, good, stay, stay,” the voice boomed out again.

“It’s a sleigh, a dog sleigh!” she said in sheer disbelief, watching as the fur-clad man settled his dogs, before making his way across to her.

“Here you are,” he said, offering Alice some fur clothes to put on. “And when you are ready, I will bring you somewhere warmer.”

Even though Alice had no idea who this man happened to be (he might well have been Jack the Ripper for all she knew), she obediently donned the fur clothes – coat, hat, gloves and boots – before jumping onto the sleigh and burrowing deep into the mountain of fur blankets heaped upon it.

“Rarr,” the man shouted, urging his dogs on, “Rarr,” he shouted again as the sleigh, with Alice snuggled warmly inside, disappeared into the blizzard…

When the sleigh had finally come to a halt, the same kindly voice as before said, “There you are, little girl, safe and sound.” Searching their way through the many blankets heaped high upon the sleigh, two large, timeworn old hands tried to locate Alice.

Peeping out from under the mountainous heap of warm, snug blankets, squinting in the bright light, Alice wondered where she had been taken, hoping against hope that it might, just might be the White Rabbit’s little house. “Where are we?” she asked.

The round-faced, bearded old man replied, “You are in Santa’s workshop, of course.”

“Santa’s workshop – are you sure?” she asked, her head turning round and round, inspecting the room, with curious eyes.

“I’m as sure as I can be,” the old man replied, laughing heartily, “considering the fact that I am Santa Claus”

“Santa Claus?” Alice spluttered (you see, she really did believe in him), recalling the wonderful present he had given her, last Christmas, the very same one she had asked for in the letter she had taken so much time to compose. “Are you really Santa Claus?” she asked.

The old man nodded. “Though, I have to admit that I prefer to be called Father Christmas. I’m a bit a traditionalist at heart. Santa Claus sounds so colonial.”

“And I am Alice, “she said, trying to find a way out from under the heavy blankets.

“I am pleased to meet you, Alice,” he replied, with a jovial laugh. “Let me help you,” he said, lifting her out from the sleigh, onto the heavily waxed floorboards.

Still struggling to believe that he really and truly was Father Christmas, Alice asked, “Where is your red and white suit?”

Chuckling, he replied, “That’s only for Christmastime – another import from our colonial friends across the water, I’m sorry to say. For the rest of the year I find these clothes more comfortable.” He pulled at his loose-fitting jumper and jeans.

Up until then Alice had not even noticed what the old man was wearing, but now that he had pointed them out, she laughed at the very thought of Santa – Father Christmas – wearing jeans and a woollen Fair Isle pullover.

“Why are you laughing?” he asked, truly ignorant of the reason.

“Oh, it just seems so funny,” she said, with a mischievous giggle, “you wearing such ordinary clothes.”

“I used to wear a green and white suit for Christmastime, in the old days,” he confessed. “I’ve been playing around with the idea of returning to that colour scheme – what do you think about that, Alice?”

“I think it sounds like a splendid idea,” she replied. “Much more Christmassy than red and white, if you ask me.”

Changing the subject, Father Christmas, clicking his fingers, said, “You must be hungry?”  Alice nodded that she was.

Two little men suddenly appeared (Alice assumed they were some of his elves), each carrying a tray, the first piled high with crispy, tasty-looking biscuits, and the other with the largest mug Alice had ever laid eyes on, full to the brim with piping hot chocolate drink. Bowing, they offered her the refreshments.

“Take them,” said the old man. “And there’s more where that came from. Oh, I almost forgot,” he said. “If you want sugar, just wish for it.”

After she had finished the wonderful repast (without having the need to wish for any sugar), Alice felt strong enough to resume her quest to find the Rabbit, but being in Santa’s – Father Christmas’s workshop, a thing that most children would give their eye teeth to see, she held back on saying so. And, anyway, she had so many questions to ask the old man, like what he did during the rest of the year, when the rush of Christmastime was over, and was he really considering returning to the green-and-white theme, she was in no rush to leave.

“I suppose you would like a tour of my workshop?” Father Christmas said, stepping away from the window he had been looking through. “It’s still snowing, out there, so you can’t be in any great hurry to go, can you?”

“I love the snow,” Alice replied. “But I do admit that I was getting a bit too much of it, before you saved me.”

“I found you,” the old man insisted. “You were in no real danger. There are so many of my elves out there, going about their business, I’m surprised that no one spotted you before I did.”

“Why were you out there, anyway?” Alice asked.

“Sport,” Father Christmas replied, “sport and exercise, to be precise.”

“But with dogs?”

“Of course,” he replied, “Now don’t get me wrong, reindeer are top dog up here (he laughed at this comment), but for sheer excitement, on the ground, you can’t beat a dog sleigh.”

“It was rather exciting,” Alice giggled, “even hidden beneath all of those blankets…”

Rubbing his long beard (you know, Alice was sure she saw rainbow colours shimmering within it), the old man asked, “And might I be so bold as to enquire what you were doing out there?”

That question returned Alice’s attention, and with a start, to the matter of the missing Rabbit, and she told Father Christmas her story, from the Rabbit’s sudden appearance, to how she had ended up being lost in the snow (though Alice omitted to say anything about her really being a grownup, with no idea how her adventure had begun).

“My, my,” said Father Christmas, rubbing his beard once again. Alice watched in amazement as some rainbow-coloured particles fall slowly from it. “That is quite a story.”

“It’s the truth!” she said, fearing he did not believe her.

“I am sure that it is,” he chuckled. “And it seems that you could do with a hand in finding this Rabbit of yours?”

“Oh, yes please,” she said clapping her hands with delight.

“I think we can kill two birds with one stone,” he said, clicking his fingers again.

“Kill two birds with a stone?” Alice asked, worried for the birds, wherever they might be (you see, she had never before heard this expression). He laughed; Father Christmas laughed his Merry Christmas laugh.

Three elves, entering the room through a small, green painted door that Alice had up until then not seen, approached the old man and listened to his instructions. Then exiting through the same door, they disappeared from sight.

“Where are they going?” Alice asked, watching the door close behind the last elf.

“I have asked them to ensure that everything is ready for our search,” he replied, standing erect in his jeans and pullover that Alice found so amusing.  Then strolling over to a regular-sized green painted door, adjacent to the smaller one, he asked, “Are you ready for your tour?”

Jumping up, Alice clapped her hands again, answering, “I still can’t believe that I am actually here, in Santa’s – sorry – Father Christmas’s workshop.”

“Come on,” he said, opening the door, leading the way through…

Passing through the doorway, Alice found herself transported (as if by magic) to a huge room – a workshop – where a multitude of elves, both male and female, were feverishly working on the toys for Christmas.

“I always wondered what you did during the rest of the year,” she said, marvelling at the piles of toys reaching almost to the ceiling. “It must take the whole year to make this lot!” Picking up a simple black cube, Alice asked, “What sort of a toy is this?”

“I was hoping you’d ask me that,” said Father Christmas, picking up another one of the cubes as he spoke. “It’s new,” he said proudly. “We developed it ourselves…”

“But what does it do?” she asked, confused by its simplicity.

“It’s a wishing cube…”

“A wishing cube?”

“Yes, go on, give it a go,” he insisted. “You never know what you might get…”

“I just wish for something?”

“That’s it – but don’t tell me what you are wishing for, it has to be a secret – go on…”

Alice thought hard and long of all the many things she might wish for, but in the end there was only one thing she felt important enough  – the whereabouts of the White Rabbit’s neat little house. So closing her eyes, she wished and wished and wished…

All of a sudden, Alice felt a tingling in her fingers, and this tingling slowly began travelling up her arms and into her body. Opening her eyes, she gazed at the cube; it was now filled with bright shining stars, too many to count. The cube then began fading away, slowly, slowly, until it had all but disappeared, but the stars, the wonderfully coloured stars, now growing in size and intensity, surrounded Alice. They began spinning, round and round they went, and faster and faster until Alice was feeling quite dizzy. Just as she was about to complain, to say how sick she was feeling, they stopped, giving her leave to study their full beauty. And they were so beautiful. Alice might have watched them forever. But this beauty, like all things in life, was transient, blurring and fading almost as fast it had appeared.

At first, Alice thought her eyes were playing tricks on her, but as the stars continued to blur, transforming into a foggy whiteness, she started to panic. “How will I ever see the White Rabbit’s house,” she bemoaned, “in this dreadful fog.” Forgetting about the invisible cube that she was still holding, Alice began waving her hands, trying to disperse the troublesome fog.  Crash! Falling from her hand, the cube struck the hard floor, shattering into thousand pieces, scattering the fog and with it any hope she had of seeing the Rabbit’s neat little house in the near future.

“Oh no,” Alice sobbed when she realised what she had done. “How will I ever find the Rabbit’s house, now?”

Two elves running across to Alice, one holding a brush and the other a dustpan swept up the broken pieces. Watching them sweep away the last pieces of cube, Alice felt hopeful again, and she said, “It was a cube – that’s

it! There are loads more! Oh, dear Father Christmas, can I please try another one?” she asked him hopefully.

Although he was a kind, caring man, Father Christmas replied, “I’m sorry, but afraid that you can’t…”

“I can’t?” Alice whispered, gazing across to the rest of the cubes on the table.

“I’m sorry,” Father Christmas continued, “but their magic will only work on each person, the once.”

Alice was devastated, to be so close to finding the whereabouts of the Rabbit, but to lose it for so foolish a reason was unforgivable.

Trying to take her mind away from the broken cube, to cheer her up, Father Christmas, putting his arm around Alice, resumed the tour of his workshop. As he took Alice around his workshop, showing her so many wonderful, fantastical toys she had never imagined it possible to make, let alone wish for, she forgot about the unfortunate accident.

As the tour drew to a close, Father Christmas called for his elves to come closer. “I am sure Alice would love to hear one of your songs,” he said.

“I would, I would,” she replied in all honesty.  The elves drew closely around them. “I know it’s not Christmas yet,” she said, “but might you sing me a Christmassy song, anyhow?”

After discussing it amongst themselves, the smallest elf, raising his hand, said, “Especially for you, we are going to sing ‘Oh, why wait for Christmas?’” After coughing discreetly, to clear their throats, they sang:


“Oh, why wait for Christmas when you can have it every day,

Be it June or September, March, April or May. 

The thing to remember is not the date or day,

But the feeling that goes behind it, so share it right away.


Enjoy your time for living; enjoy your time on earth,

A time for celebration, a chance to spend in mirth,

Each day will go brightly as you strike out forth,    

And all of this made possible because of the virgin birth.


Oh, why wait for Christmas when you can have it every day,

Be it June or September, March, April or May. 

The thing to remember is not the date or day,

But the feeling that goes behind it, so share it right away.”

Alice clapped; she clapped so much for the beautiful song the elves had performed – and especially for her. “Thank you,” she said, still clapping “Thank you so much, each and every one of you,” she added in true appreciation for their wonderful, impromptu performance.

“I think it’s about time we were off,” said Father Christmas, exiting the room, to the loading bay outside, where he approached his sleigh.

Following the old man, Alice asked, “Where did that come from?” Stroking his beard, he just smiled, releasing some rainbow coloured in the process.

Understanding that it was by magic, Alice said, “Can I say hello to the reindeer?”

“Of course you can,” he laughed, “And where better to begin than at the front?” Leading the way, he brought Alice to the head of the line of waiting animals, to the liveliest one, Rudolf.

“He’s a bit frisky,” she remarked as Rudolf reared up on his hind legs.

“He had some oats this morning – they all had some,” Father Christmas chuckled. “It always does that to them,” he said, chuckling again.

After Rudolf had settled down, Alice asked, “Can I pat him?”

As if he understood her every word, Rudolf lowered his huge antlered head, allowing Alice to pat him as much as she liked.

“He seems to have taken a shine to you, Alice. That one was always a good judge of character…”

“He’s lovely, just like I always imagined,” she replied.

“Come on, Alice, you still have to meet the rest of them,” said the old man, leading the way down the line of reindeer. “This one is Dasher and next to him Dancer. He can also be a handful, that one.”

Alice offered a hand to Dasher. He also lowered his head, ready for a pat. Not wanting to miss out on the attention, Dancer also lowered his.

“I told you he can be a handful,” said Father Christmas laughing.

“They’re funny,” Alice giggled, sharing her hands between the two friendly reindeer.

“Come on, we still have the rest of them to see,” said the old man making his way further down the line of reindeer. “Next we have Prancer and Vixen, then Comet and Cupid, and last but certainly not least we have Donner and Blixen.”

“I love them all,” said Alice, giving Blixen an extra special pat before following Father Christmas to his sleigh.

“Now up with you,” he said beckoning for Alice to step up.

Poor Alice did try to get up, into the sleigh, but the step was simply too high for her child-sized legs. Laughing, Father Christmas clicked his fingers. Two elves, carrying a small set of steps between them, ran over to the sleigh and placed them against it. Thanking them, Alice stepped up and boarded the sky vehicle.

As Alice settled into the comfortable bench seat, one of the elves climbed up and tucked her in snugly with a warm, thick blanket. Waving a goodbye, the little man jumped down from the sleigh. Before she was able to say Jack Robinson, Father Christmas was shouting, “Rarr, rarr,” and the galloping reindeer whisked them up and away into the cold of the night.



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Alice in Wonderland Christmas story

Chapter Two
The Fertilizer Mine

Despite feeling so bad, having to leave the aspidistras behind, Alice had given them her word that she would return with some fertilizer, and so she would. “All that I have to do,” she said, “is to find the mine, and get a bag of it, that can’t be so hard, can it? Now, I wonder…” she said, “Which way shall I go, to the left, to the right or continue straight ahead?” Without having any idea as to where the mine was actually located, Alice thought it best to follow her nose. “I can’t go too far wrong, doing that,” she said as she stepped off the path, onto a swathe of neatly cut lawn.
As she walked further away from the path, the neat grasses of the lawn gave way to a wild terrain, where hill after hill beckoned her on. Alice tried, she tried so hard to cross all of those hills, going up and down and up and down, but after climbing ten (or was it perhaps twenty?) she was too tired to go on any further. “They must go on forever,” Alice groaned, in exasperation at the hopelessness of it all. “I can’t take another step,” she said, sitting down, taking off her shoes and socks to give her poor feet a rest.  As she gazed across hill after hill, thinking she might never see a flat piece of land again, Alice noticed something halfway up the next hill, something that looked incredibly like the entrance to a mine.
Scrambling to her feet, shouting excitedly, she said, “That must be it! That must be the mine entrance!” With her shoes and socks tucked under her arms, Alice set off, running towards the mine entrance, determined to find the aspidistras some fertilizer.
Although she had seen the mine entrance quite clearly from where she was standing, it took Alice another long time (or was it a short time?) until she reached it. “I am so glad to see you,” she said to the ramshackle gates, when she finally reached the mine entrance. “If I had taken me one minute longer, I fear I might never have arrived here at all.” Sitting upon the ground, Alice put on her shoes and socks. Noticing a sign attached to one of the gates, she stood up and studied it in detail. With a finger across her lips (she found it easier to work things out that way) Alice inspected the square, yellow-painted metal sign; it read:

‘This is a mine, of that you well know,
But what kind of mine be it tin, be it coal?
If you dares to pass through and goes down for a see,
Can you hope to return and be free?’

“What a strange sign to hang outside a mine,” she thought as she read it again, in the hope that it made more sense the second time around. It didn’t; the rhyme was still just as confusing to her.
Tugging hard on the rusty old gates, Alice managed to prise them open. Seeing how dark it was inside, she searched for to use as a torch. Finding nothing, she entered the mine, hoping that her eyes became accustomed to the darkness within.
The way into the fertilizer mine (if that’s what it actually was) sloped gently downwards, allowing the light from the entrance to spill far into its mysterious interior. Alice searched high and low, inside the mine, she searched every nook and cranny, where even the faintest wisp of light entered, without finding even one speck of fertilizer.
Sitting upon a rock jutting out from the floor, she groaned, “It’s useless, I’ll never find anything in this silly old mine.”
“Yous’ll never find anything, if yous don’t look for it,” said a voice from a particularly dark part of the mine.
“Who said that?” Alice asked, staring into the darkness, where she thought the voice had come from.
“I might be asking yous the same q’estion,” the voice replied, “considering it’s yous who are invaading my home.”
“Invading?” said Alice, taken aback by the cruel accusation being hurled against her. “How can I be invading your home, when all that I am doing is looking for some fertilizer?”
“It depends, on how yous sees it,” the voice replied.
“On how yous sees it?” said Alice, highlighting his incorrect use of the English language.
“Let me explain,” the voice continued. “If I wur t’break into yours home…”
“I did not break into – anywhere!” Alice insisted, hurt that she could be accused of so despicable a crime.
“If yous will allow me t’continue?”
“I am sorry, please go on,” she said, trying to hold back a tear.
“Now where wus I?”
“I was breaking into your home…”
“Oh, yes,” said the voice from the darkness.  “If I wur t’break into yours home, I might very well end up before a gistrate.”
“A what?” said Alice, confused by the strange words he was using.
“A gistrate – who could easily see fit t’send me t’jail.”
“Oh, you mean a magistrate.”
“Yes, that’s what I be saying, a gistrate,” the voice replied. “But yous cuum down here, willy-nilly, like yous owns the place, and are upset if I reprimand yous for doing so.”
“I can understand if this was a house,” said Alice, “but it’s only an old mine.”
“It might be an old mine t’yous, but it’s a home t’me,” said the voice that seemed to be getting closer by the second.
“If you were an elf or a troll – or even a goblin, I might believe that,” said Alice, fearing the conversation would go on forever, that she might never resume her hunt for the fertilizer, “but…”
“And what makes you think that I am not one of those creatures?” the voice asked as its body appeared from out of the darkness.
“You are an elf!” Alice gasped. “And an incredibly old one at that!”
“There is no need t’be rude,” the little, big-eared man replied, as he sat upon a small rock, opposite Alice.
Inspecting his clothes, they were of a terribly coarse material – hessian, Alice surmised – she asked, “Are you really an elf?” She attempted to touch one of his long, pointy ears.
“Less of that, m’dear,” he said, “don’t you know that elves’ ears are sensitive things?”
“They are?”
“Yes, of course,” he replied in a happier tone of voice, appearing to have forgotten all about the house invasion.
Just then, Alice remembered the aspidistras waiting for the fertilizer, and she began crying, thinking she might never secure them some.
“Let’s not be haaving any of that,” said the elf, who felt even smaller than his meagre two foot six inches in height. Grinning, he nudged Alice, saying, “Yous did say fertilizer, didn’t yous?”
Taking her hanky from out of her apron pocket, Alice blew her nose.  “Oh, yes, Mr Elf, I did,” she said. “You see, it’s not for me, it’s for the aspidistras – they haven’t been fertilised for ages. I think it might be years and years!”
Still grinning, the little man said, “Fle, my name is Fle. And before yous start laughing, let me tell yous that it’s spelt FLE. That’s Elf, backwards, you know. Old mum thought it would be easier for her to r’member it, that way.”
“I shan’t laugh, Mr Fle,” Alice promised.
“Just Fle,” he chuckled. “Forget ‘bout the Mr bit – makes me feel older than yous already think I am.” He laughed again, so also did Alice.
“Is all of this really fertilizer?” Alice asked when Fle led her through a concealed passageway, into a hidden part of the mine, packed to the ceiling with white cotton sacks and bags.
“Every bit of it, m’dear,” he proudly proclaimed. Pulling a rope Fle opened a window high in the roof, flooding the dark cavern with daylight. Bringing Alice on a tour of his mine, he showed her how much fertilizer he had stashed within it. “How many sacks will yous be requiring?” he asked. “Yous can have as many as y’like, y’know.”
“Only need the one bag,” she told him. “That is all I can carry.”
“Only the one bag?” he asked, scratching his head, confused. “Hardly seems wurth putting it on.”
“Yes, just the one bag, please,” Alice repeated.
Still scratching his head, Fle asked, “How many of them oispidistries did yous say there wur?”
Laughing at how funny he could be, Alice said, “They’re called aspidistras. And there must be, now let me see…” Raising her hands Alice began counting on her fingers, trying to work out how many plants needed fertilising. She counted and counted and then counted some more. Just as she thought she had finished calculating the amount, Alice remembered a ten she had carried over, but had forgotten to add on, so she had to start all over again. When she had finally finished, the smile had all but disappeared from her face, as she whispered, “There are one hundred aspidistras, perhaps two hundred on a good day. That is way too many plants for one bag of fertilizer. Oh, Fle, what am I going to do?”
“Never yous mind, m’dear,” Fle answered “There will be plenty of fertilizer for all of them there oispidistries.”
Ordering Alice to return to the surface, Fle set about organising the fertilizer, and its means of carriage. Thirty minutes later he arrived at the surface, pulling a dilapidated cart behind him, containing two bags, one small and one large, filled with his prized fertilizer. Peering through the rickety gates, he said, “Hello m’dear.”
“Oh, Mr Fle,” Alice excitedly replied, “is this all for me?”
“It’s Fle, no Mr, remember?”

, Fle,” she giggled.
“And, yes,” the little man replied, as he pulled his cart to a halt, “all of this is for those oispidistries of yours.”
“You are the nicest elf that I could ever have hoped to meet,” said Alice.
Once again noticing the yellow painted sign on the gates, Alice asked, “Why did you put that sign up?”
“That be t’stop folks cuuming in an staaling the fertilizer,” the wily old elf explained.
“But there’s no shortage – you have loads of it!” a puzzled Alice replied.
Patting the side of his nose, Fle said, “Keeps everyone on their toes, it dus, thinking there might be…”



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Why wait For Christmas?

From the story, the free eBook, Alice in Wonderland Christmas.

Why wait For Christmas?

Why wait for Christmas when you can have it every day,

Be it June or September, March, April or May.

The thing to remember is not the date or day,

But the feeling that goes behind it, so share it right away.


Enjoy your time for living; enjoy your time on earth,

A time for celebration, a chance to spend in mirth,

Each day will go brightly as you strike out forth,

And all of this made possible because of the virgin birth.


Why wait for Christmas when you can have it every day,

Be it June or September, March, April or May.

The thing to remember is not the date or day,

But the feeling that goes behind it, so share it right away.


Click HERE to be transferred to my ebook shop,

where you can get this eBook for free


An Alice in Wonderland Christmas story



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Christmastime is Nowhere at all

Christmastime is Nowhere at all

From the story, Alice in Wonderland Christmas

Christmastime is nowhere at all,

It’s nowhere at all, if it’s not in your heart.

If it’s not in your wishes, right there from the start,

Christmastime is nowhere at all.


Christmastime, a time to be glad,

A time to rejoice in all that you have,

But let us remember this time of good cheer,

Is also a time to erase every fear.


Christmastime is nowhere at all,

It’s nowhere at all, if it’s not in your heart.

If it’s not in your wishes, right there from the start,


Christmastime is nowhere at all.

Christmastime, it’s a time to be glad,

It a time to rejoice in all that you have,

But let us remember this time of good cheer,

Is a time to share blessings, this is my prayer.



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where you can get this eBook for free


An Alice in Wonderland Christmas story


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Off with her head!

This poem was inspired by the NEW Alice in Wonderland story.

Off with her head, I said, OFF, OFF, OFF!

Off with her head; put it on a block!

Swing your axe high executioner; find the true mark!

I said off with her head, now make a start!’


Why would you want to punish her, so?

Said the red King for Alice, below.

She is just a poor child; a wisp of a girl,

Seeking Rabbit’s house on Top of the World.


For a moment the Queen faltered, mulling her plan,

Then she exploded again, asking, Are you mouse or man?

Alice’s head it must fall, lest yours be the next!

Now off with that head, and don’t make a mess!


Standing there frightened, Alice thought her days gone,

As she waited for the chopper and her final anon.

Then down from the sky an old man appeared,

And whisked her away  tucked under his beard!


She won’t be a chopping your head, my sweet child,

Said the man, Father Christmas, with gentle sweet smile.

We shall up and away and follow our snouts,

To Top of the World, and Rabbit’s neat house.

Hissing her annoyance at being out thought,

The Queen ordered everyone beheaded and went for a walk.

A new Alice in Wonderland story



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(From Alice in Wonderland on Top of the World)


Off with her head, I said, OFF, OFF, OFF!

Off with her head; put it on a block!

Swing your axe high executioner; find the true mark!

I said off with her head, now; make a start!


Why do you want to punish her, so?

Said the King for Alice, standing below.

She is just a child; a mere wisp of a girl,

Searching for Rabbit’s house at the Top of the World.


For a moment the Queen faltered, mulling her plan,

Then she roared, Are you mouse or a man?

Alice’s head it must fall or yours will be next!

Off with her head and don’t make a mess!


Standing, there, listening, Alice thought she was done,

Waiting for the chopper with its final anon.

Then down from the sky an old man appeared,

Then he whisked her away; tucked under his beard!


She won’t be chopping your head, he said with a smile,

Father Christmas, to the poor, startled child.

Let us up and away and follow our snouts,

To the Top of the World and the Rabbit’s fine house.


Hissing her annoyance, the Queen voiced her thoughts,

Behead everyone, and then she went for a walk.



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I Am a Cat, it said Smiling at Her

I Am a Cat, it said Smiling at Her

I am a Cat, it said smiling at her,

A Cheshire Cat; you can tell by my fur,

My paws and whiskers are also a hint,

But the smile on my face is most significant.


I can see by your fur, said Alice – I do,

And also your paws and whiskers; it’s true,

But that smile on your face has me all in a tizz,

Coming and going, in such a whiz.


Still smiling at Alice, the Cat dryly replied,

You’d never believe me; you’d think I had lied,

If the smile on my face was gone; it’s a fact,

No one would listen or look at this Cat.


Without offering Alice a chance to reply,

The Cat went on with his horrible lie,

Creeping closer and closer, until ever so near,

When he pounced, lashed out, cutting her ear.


Feeling the hurt and the blood running down,

Alice said, I was such a clown,

To have ever believed a Cat with a grin,

Take that, and that, you horrible thing!


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Posted by on October 13, 2013 in Alice in Wonderland


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