The beauty of the little bear was something to behold,
Because it didn't have a care, that's if the truth were told.
Dismissing how its time was spent, with not much to get done.
It had no job, it paid no rent. Why not enjoy the sun?
Its food was here and it was there, so not that far to go,
Sometimes, at clouds it chose to stare, the little so-and-so.
It had the wonder of a child when drinking from the stream,
And after that it looked so mild as it began to dream.
I think back to my childhood years, too young to find a friend,
Yet there were ways to soothe my tears, on that you could depend.
You see, I had my teddy bear, so soft, and cuddly, too,
No other bear could quite compare, because my bear was blue.
I was too young to understand that bears are brown or white,
It was enough to hold its hand to comfort me each night.
I think I'm glad the most of all how teddy bears can smile.
My Christmas gift I still recall. My friend, just for a while.
Denis Martindale, the 30th of April 2023.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem