A hungry little bear sat alone on a hill.
Honey jar in paws, ever careful not to spill.
He spoke not a word while opening the jar,
gazing over the meadows and fields afar.
Sticking in his tongue, slurping and lapping up the sweet honey,
he enjoyed the beauty of the day, so warm bright and sunny.
Honey drizzled down his chin and all over his front,
“Ugh! I’m all sticky! Egads!” he exclaimed with a grunt!
“What will my Mother say,
when she sees me this way?”
“She will want me to bathe and then toss me in the river.”
And with this worrisome thought, his bottom lip started to quiver.
Though his dire hunger was now sated,
new bath concerns went unabated.
The sweet honey nearly gone,
he then leaned back with a yawn.
With remaining honey now out of reach with his tongue,
The bear remembered a tune which his mother had sung.
“Joshua Giraffe was born in a zoo, he lived there, too.
For two years and a half, he hasn’t had a bath . . .” *
He sang the verse boldly as he wandered back home,
Still hoping not to be drowned in wretched soap foam.
With icky sticky honey all over his fur,
he crept beside Mother, to hide, snuggle and purr.
But a bear is not a cat,
so shouldn’t try to do that.
Bath time was on as he wriggled and squirmed,
dunked in the river, his bath fears confirmed.
But since the bears don’t use soap,
There were no reasons to mope.
With no rubbly-bubbly soap in his eyes to cause any tears,
little bear really had no worries to support all his fears.
Wee bear shouldn’t have tried to conceal his icky sticky self.
Not when there’s a jar of honey noticed missing from the shelf.
Mothers always seem to know when something is amiss.
Besides, all bath times end with a motherly bear kiss.
(Note *– Song lyric excerpt from “Joshua Giraffe” lyrics by Raffi Cavoukian)
Does it seem that the older we get the more we seem to enjoy a nice, leisurely bath? Not sure that holds true with dogs from my experience, but for me, it certainly seems to be the case.
Thanks always for visiting! Maybe light a few scented candles and take a nice relaxing and restorative bath this evening. If anyone asks, simply tell them that Little Red Bear suggested it. They’ll understand. — Jim (and Red!)
If you enjoyed this little poem, you may also enjoy — “Little Tommy O’Flanagan” — another little poem about having fun playing in a mud puddle. Bath to follow, of course.
“I am sure there are things that can’t be cured by a good bath, but I can’t think of one.”
“Anyone who thinks heaven is not hot water behind a locked door has forgotten what it means to live.” – Lucy Frank
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Meet Little Red Bear & His Friends — “Once Upon A Time In A Very Special Woods . . . .”
“I can tell you kids grew up with a silver spoon in your mouth. When I was your age, we took a bath once a week on Saturday night, and all of us used the same bath water.”
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“I love the magic of a hot bath, how time pauses and every grievance melts away.”