...

Hey, Faithful Readers! It's Alice, your new writer. I wrote the last post, "The Silver Bullet of December". I'll talk about myself later, because I have something to say. Well,  as I was going through past posts, and I saw an AH-MAY-ZING one from October called "Fashion Through Poetry.". It was extremely inspiring, and also a bit odd, because I am often dressing to resemble a story, or a certain piece of writing that touches me. That post was practically reading my mind.  Therefore, I decided to create a second one.

Fashion Through Poetry II

All Poems are provided by http://poemhunter.com.

A Dream Within A Dream

Edgar Allen Poe

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream? 

The Dreamy, Mysterious, Questioning Quality within the poem is brought to life through floating chiffon, arm bangles, and loose, gypsy-like lace.

Jabberwocky

Lewis Caroll

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe. 'Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun The frumious Bandersnatch!' He took his vorpal sword in hand: Long time the manxome foe he sought -- So rested he by the Tumtum tree, And stood a while in thought. And, as in uffish thought he stood, The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame, Came whiffling through the tulgey wood, And burbled as it came! One two! One two! And through and through The vorpal blade went snicker-snack! He left it dead, and with its head He went galumphing back. 'And hast thou slain the Jabberwock? Come to my arms, my beamish boy! Oh frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!' He chortled in his joy. 'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe.  The dark, ominous tones in the outfit as accentuated with a burst of supprise- color, which is suppressed  in the fifth paragraph.

Fire and Ice

Robert Frost

Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I've tasted of desire

I hold with those who favor fire.

But if it had to perish twice,

I think I know enough of hate

To say that for destruction ice

Is also great

And would suffice. 

. This outfit resembles indesision, by mixing patterns.

Thats all for today, It's getting late! Tell you what you think!