A CHRISTMAS BROWN BEAR

ONCE UPON A TIME

A LONG TIME AGO

FROM WHERE WE’VE BEEN

AND WHERE WE GO

LIVED A SMALL BROWN TEDDY BEAR

FAT AND BUNCHY, SPOTTED WHITE AND BROWN

WITH REAL THREAD WHISKERS LIKE A CLOWN

AND TO HEAR PINK LINED SATIN EARS.

 

CAME CHRISTMAS TIME

HE TOPPED A YOUNG BOY’S SOCK

ALONG WITH A TOY ENGINE AND CHOCOLATE

BUT THERE WERE OTHER TOYS AS WELL

MECHANICAL ONES WITH RINGING BELLS

WHIRRING HEARTS AND WIND UP SOULS

THEY SEEMED COMPLETE AND SEEMED WHOLE.

 

A TEDDY BEAR COULD NOT BE THAT BOLD.

 

THE BROWN LITTLE TEDDY BEAR WAS LOST

AMONG THE TOYS THAT BOAST AND COST

BUT MAINSPRINGS BROKE EACH DAY TO PASS AWAY

AND THE BROWN BEAR SAW THEY WERE ONLY TOYS

AND WOULD NEVER GROW INTO LIFE’S JOYS

BUT THEN HE WONDERED “AM I REAL?”

SO HE WENT TO ASK THE OLD AND WISE

ELEPHANT FOR HIS SECRETS TO REVEAL

 

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LIFE ASKS

AND LIFE ASKED HER

WHEN YOU LEAVE

WHAT SHALL I KEEP

OF WHAT YOU’VE DONE

AND WHAT YOU’VE BEEN?

SMILING….

SHE THOUGHT OF HER CHILDREN,

FLOWERS PLANTED, AND TIME TAKEN

RENDERING, STRENGTH TO THE UNABLE,

WITH HER EYES AND SMILE

SHOWING THAT ALL THINGS ARE CAPABLE.

AND SPEAKING…..

INA VOICE MORE LOW

OF WHAT I’VE DONE AND BEEN,

WHAT THERE IS TO KNOW

MY ONLY NEEDS, WERE

THE SEEDS OF LOVE I SOWED.

 

PHOTOGRAPHS

LOOK AT THE PHOTOGRAPHS

IN AN OLD MAN’S ROOM

AS SUNLIGHT DIMS

IN AFTERNOON

PHOTOGRAPHS GIVING

LIGHT TO ANOTHER DAY

LIFE TO ANOTHER WAY

OF A MAN

SOMEONE NOT ME

FOR YOU SEE

I SAW MY VANQUISHED YOUTH

WHERE YOUTH AND BEAUTY

TOGETHERED PLAYED

WHILE REFUSING TO ACCLAIM

OR NAME IT FOR MYSELF

FOR UNLIKE THE WORLD

BEFORE I WOULD NEVER

HAVE DEATH KNOCKING

AT MY DOOR

AND I ALONE IN MY ROOM

TOO WEAK TOO FEEBLE

TO SAY

I WANT YOU

PLEASE

COME IN AND

BRING ME PEACE

THIS DAY

 

So Matter of Fact yet not Sad

My grandfather died tonight.

We had gone to his Foundry.

We lunched and he took a nap.

It was 1951.

The papers said he was a kind man.

Crediting his success, he was honest and considerate of all his friends.

The obituary of my grandfather

Was so matter of fact yet not sad.

He lived and died and now survives

In the wakings of our lives.

A Sunday suit of clothes,

A watch and chain and eyes

That clearly know,

We are here for the passing,

Never meant for forever more

As love is our only asking,

As love is our heart’s full store

And if one has a need of knowing

Seeds of love are never cold

For in all our stories told

Only the strong are gentle

Enough to hold