{"id":6752,"date":"2012-06-01T01:10:29","date_gmt":"2012-06-01T06:10:29","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/paganpages.org\/content\/?p=6952"},"modified":"2012-05-29T18:47:58","modified_gmt":"2012-05-29T23:47:58","slug":"greetings-from-afar-26","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/paganpages.org\/emagazine\/2012\/06\/01\/greetings-from-afar-26\/","title":{"rendered":"Greetings from Afar"},"content":{"rendered":"

The Teddybear on My Desk<\/strong><\/p>\n

You never saw him while you were here.
\nYou’d have laughed just like the rest.
\nYou’d have thought it was ‘quaint’ or ‘funny’,
\nOr ‘a little bit nuts’ at best.<\/p>\n

You’d have thought he was old and ‘dated’.
\nYou’d have thought it some kind of jest.
\nSo when you came to call, I hid him from you —
\nThe Teddybear on my desk.<\/p>\n

He’s right back where he belongs now.
\nRight where he’s always been.
\nBack where he smiles at everyone
\nAnd they smile back at him.<\/p>\n

Among the clutter and photos,
\nLedgers and books and the rest
\nHe sits and stares and smiles at me;
\nThe Teddybear on my desk.<\/p>\n

I built him a little pedestal
\nHis very own special place
\nSo the first thing I see in the morning
\nIs his smiling velveteen face.<\/p>\n

For fifteen years he’s sat there
\nSmiling his velveteen smile.
\nFor fifteen year he’s waited
\nTo be loved by a little child.<\/p>\n

I missed the chance when it first came
\nTo send him on his trip like so many chances slip.
\nBut he still sits and\u00a0in his ‘captain’s suit’,
\nWaiting to ‘catch his ship’.<\/p>\n

The child that would love him is gone now,
\nBut in our minds we still see
\nThe memories of fading memories
\nOf how things ‘used to be’.<\/p>\n

Letters and presents and post cards —
\nAnd the ‘special’ little bears.
\nThey’re nothing now but memories.
\nMemories clouded by tears.<\/p>\n

Remember the first of those little bears?
\nI remember him very well.
\nHe was ‘born’ the same day that you were.
\nThe second ‘baby’ I held.<\/p>\n

He’s been with you every day of your life —
\nWith you in sickness and health.
\nHe was with you the day that I kissed you ‘goodbye’
\nFor a trip that has turned into death.<\/p>\n

Maybe one day there’ll be a child to love this little bear
\nTo hold him close and show him that someone really cares.
\nTo hold and love and play with him for another fifteen years
\nTo be his \u2018little buddy\u2019 in spite of a few ‘gray hairs’.<\/p>\n

He’ll hold him at night and play with him
\nAnd be his little friend —
\nHe\u2019ll \u00a0love him as much as I do
\nTo completely different ends.<\/p>\n

Another little boy will love him
\nJust like his ‘first’ one would.
\nLike no other little boy would have,
\nAnd no other little boy could.<\/p>\n

He’s waited for years for that moment
\nWhen like another little bear
\nHe’ll never know anything but love
\nAnd forget my bitter tears.<\/p>\n

He’s not as young as he once was,
\nBut he’s still as neat and prim.
\nAnd there have been times when people
\nWould stop and ask about him.<\/p>\n

I only give them a smile and wink and maybe a little nod.
\nThe story of the little bear is between myself and God.
\nAnd one other person I know who hurts
\nAnd has walked the same road that we\u2019ve trod.<\/p>\n

It’s hard to be brave when the memories come
\nThrough the empty, bitter years.
\nMemories of half a lifetime
\nThat never fade or dim.<\/p>\n

But the little bear gives me comfort —
\nButton eyes and velveteen smile,
\nAnd cute little suit\u00a0 and soft brown hair
\nMade to be loved by a child.<\/p>\n

So I’ve kept him safely all these years
\nAs neat as neat can be
\nAnd he ‘does’ bring love and comfort
\nEven if just for me.<\/p>\n

They’ve always said that ‘Hope dies last’
\nMaybe it’s even true.
\nMaybe one day he\u2019ll frolic where he’s always been meant to be \u2013
\nIn the arms of a loving little boy who will never remember me.<\/p>\n

Maybe one day we’ll both get ‘home’–
\nCatch that long-lost ship
\nAnd a ‘big’ little boy will meet us
\nAt the end of that final trip.<\/p>\n

Until that day he’ll be my little bear
\nA reminder of things still dear.
\nAnd he’ll comfort me and smile at me
\nLike he has for all these years,<\/p>\n

I’ll hold him and stroke his velveteen fur
\nAnd smooth his little suit.
\nI\u2019ll stroke his cute little velveteen head and cute little velveteen ears.
\nAnd I\u2019ll gaze at his cute little button eyes as I dry these bitter tears.<\/p>\n

\u00a9 2012 by Dr.\u00a0 J. Lee Choron. There are no rights to republication of this poem available either as a paid or unpaid work.<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The Teddybear on My Desk You never saw him while you were here. You’d have laughed just like the rest. You’d have thought it was ‘quaint’ or ‘funny’, Or ‘a little bit nuts’ at best. You’d have thought he was old and ‘dated’. You’d have thought it some kind of jest. So when you came to call, I hid him from you — The Teddybear on my desk. He’s right back where he belongs now. Right where he’s always been. Back where he smiles at everyone And they smile back at him. Among the clutter and photos, Ledgers and books and the rest He sits and stares and smiles at me; The Teddybear on my desk. I built him a little pedestal His very own special place So the first thing I see in the morning Is his smiling velveteen face. For fifteen years he’s sat there Smiling his velveteen smile. For fifteen year he’s waited To be loved by a little child. I missed the chance when it first came To send him on his trip like so many chances slip. But he still sits and\u00a0in his ‘captain’s suit’, Waiting to ‘catch his ship’. The child that would love him is gone now, But in our minds we still see The memories of fading memories Of how things ‘used to be’. Letters and presents and post cards — And the ‘special’ little bears. They’re nothing now but memories. Memories clouded by tears. Remember the first of those little bears? I remember him very well. He was ‘born’ the same day that you were. The second ‘baby’ I held. He’s been with you every day of your life — With you in sickness and health. He was with you the day that I kissed you ‘goodbye’ For a trip that has turned into death. Maybe one day there’ll be a child to love this little bear To hold him close and show him that someone really cares. To hold and love and play with him for another fifteen years To be his \u2018little buddy\u2019 in spite of a few ‘gray hairs’. He’ll hold him at night and play with him And be his little friend — He\u2019ll \u00a0love him as much as I do To completely different ends. Another little boy will love him Just like his ‘first’ one would. Like no other little boy would have, And no other little boy could. He’s waited for years for that moment When like another little bear He’ll never know anything but love And forget my bitter tears. He’s not as young as he once was, But he’s still as neat and prim. And there have been times when people Would stop and ask about him. I only give them a smile and wink and maybe a little nod. The story of the little bear is between myself and God. And one other person I know who hurts And has walked the same road that we\u2019ve trod. It’s hard to be brave when the memories come Through the empty, bitter years. Memories of half a lifetime That never fade or dim. But the little bear gives me comfort — Button eyes and velveteen smile, And cute little suit\u00a0 and soft brown hair Made to be loved by a child. So I’ve kept him safely all these years As neat as neat can be And he ‘does’ bring love and comfort Even if just for me. They’ve always said that ‘Hope dies last’ Maybe it’s even true. Maybe one day he\u2019ll frolic where he’s always been meant to be \u2013 In the arms of a loving little boy who will never remember me. Maybe one day we’ll both get ‘home’– Catch that long-lost ship And a ‘big’ little boy will meet us At the end of that final trip. Until that day he’ll be my little bear A reminder of things still dear. And he’ll comfort me and smile at me Like he has for all these years, I’ll hold him and stroke his velveteen fur And smooth his little suit. I\u2019ll stroke his cute little velveteen head and cute little velveteen ears. And I\u2019ll gaze at his cute little button eyes as I dry these bitter tears. \u00a9 2012 by Dr.\u00a0 J. Lee Choron. There are no rights to republication of this poem available either as a paid or unpaid work.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":7,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"iawp_total_views":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-6752","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/paganpages.org\/emagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6752","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/paganpages.org\/emagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/paganpages.org\/emagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/paganpages.org\/emagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/7"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/paganpages.org\/emagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6752"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/paganpages.org\/emagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6752\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6561,"href":"https:\/\/paganpages.org\/emagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6752\/revisions\/6561"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/paganpages.org\/emagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6752"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/paganpages.org\/emagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6752"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/paganpages.org\/emagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6752"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}