A Bear of Memories

With fur mattered as a real bear, but as soft as a cloud
His old and worn t-shirt as red as roses stands out against that mustered fur
Beady eyes of the darkest night, although chipped, watch you whenever in sight
A body no bigger than the smallest baby, slouches on my bed

Beaming with happiness with a cheeky smile spread across his rounded head
Looking up at me as if I’m Christopher Robin waiting to go on an exposition
From adventurers with piglet to eating in pasta in the land shaped as a boot
Cranskies and apple strudels in faraway lands
Every day we would sour through the clouds looking for Tigger, Piglet, Rabbit or Eeyore

After every exhilarating day fulfilled with adventures
We would jump into my bed all nice and warm
I suddenly would wake up all frightened and scared from the monster under my bed
But I would snuggle close up with that small old body and drift off into a deep sleep
Over the years as I have grown mature he has become ragged
Whether I ran he came along by my side
Although I have lots of other thing to do, my Pooh-Bear will always be there for me