“Danger! Danger!” Young Robins-Son, no one heard you cry.
From your ‘Hundred Acre Wood’, your ‘hunny bear’ has lost his Way
And Darkness is on the nigh.
This morn, I happened across a scared & lost
Small fat bear that the day before was not there.
With spear in hand, his back against a stump,
Shivering from cold & wet, or maybe fear
Of Creatures with foul drooling breath,
That howls frightfully near.
I gathered him up, and set him safe by my fire,
And then proceeded to check
Bulletin boards at feed stores, and even on CraigsList.
But nowhere there, did I spy, your fervent words of loss & regret.
Your priorities must be askew,
Your so-called ‘Friends’, they are in question.
It’s most definite that “Nature is Out of Balance,”
For you to not’ve known, he was Out There, and Alone-
That your smallest of Friends was not safe in his Home.
Now that he has been fed, warmed & dried,
We have had a chance to talk, as I sharpen his tiny spear
With the new belt knife that I have him Gifted,
So he now knows that he has a Choice
To stay here in The FaeriWood
Where his gentle giant Spirit may be uplifted.
Or return to be “with Friends like you…”
Where All the World is Lost.