You are cordially invited to a party,
Enchantment of the highest kind,
Be sure to follow my directions,
As Toyland is hard to find,
Go down to the Mystic Wood,
Where the trees glitter and sigh,
Ask no one for directions,
Pretend to be but a passer-by.
Find the tree with a purple branch,
And pull it to get inside,
Behold a banquet of magical beings,
Where no creature needs to hide.
A place where the sky glitters auburn pink,
And the river flows full of ice cream,
A party of dancing and music,
To warm even the old Ice Queen.
A place to throw back your hair,
Where evil needs not battle good,
Each one sharing their tales of the day,
Laughing aloud as they should.
But beware of the one in the corner,
Who lingers by the Fountain of Youth,
A single red apple in her hand,
This maiden speaks not the truth.
So be careful weary observer,
Although it might seem rude,
In Toyland the rules are firmer,
To leave you must eat no food.
The Mystic Wood awaits you,
But an RSVP we cannot receive;
Toyland has no forwarding address,
To enter you need only believe.
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