THE LAST BEAR
Many years from now,
in a time yet to be,
in world still to come,
long after me.
A tiny old lady,
will get out of bed
and reaching high on a shelf,
she will pull down her ted.
Hugging him close
and smelling his fur,
will bring back the memories,
so precious to her.
For this is the last bear,
the last of his kind:
Toys fell to television,
books to online,
and before children remembered
what they didn’t know,
there were no bears to be found,
nor tin men to show.
no child played with dollies,
not one knew a truck,
no rascals came through the doors
covered in muck.
Sitting in bed,
the woman will sigh:
“I wish they remembered,
as clearly as I,
what it is to be young
to be free,
to have fun,
to laugh and imagine,
a world as you run,
that doesn’t exist
(just in your head).
Do you remember those times,
my ted?”
The teddy will look,
her square in the eye,
and reflected in his,
her mother she’ll spy.
That mother that gave her
a bear so smart,
an imagination so great
and a beating heart
that glows with love,
for youth and for fun.
Because although memories fade,
it only takes one
little old lady
to get out of bed,
to reach to her shelf
and pull down her ted,
to call down to her Grandson
and hold out her toy:
“The bear is now yours,
my beautiful boy.
So go into the garden:
take my old ted,
build a den with the willow
and stake out the shed,
forage for pig-nuts
and bake fifteen mud pies,
build a world of laughter,
under the skies”.
Many years from now,
in a time yet to be,
in world still to come,
long after me.
You’ll look to the teddy
lying beside you tonight,
and see youth and fun,
in a different light.
The light of memory,
sometimes disarms,
but fun and happiness
shelters and calms.
So sleep my lovely,
cuddling your ted,
you are safe in your dreams,
you are safe in your bed.
And I’ll give you laughter,
but when I am gone,
remember the fun
and please pass it on.
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Creative writing
Poem for night-time
2 replies
Lottiey19 · 16/07/2015 21:03
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