Love Poem: Beary Tales Episodes 34-35, Interlude, Episodes 36-37, Poet's Notes
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Written by: Brian Johnston

Beary Tales Episodes 34-35, Interlude, Episodes 36-37, Poet's Notes

Note to Readers of Previous Versions:
There are so many new vignettes scattered throughout the poem that I hope you will reread the whole thing! There are many new GEMS, improvements to previous verses and improved footnotes as well! Trust me!


34. Hello Christmas
A hat full of names passed IS hoping to teach:
Christmas giving IS custom observed by each clan!
Siblings loyal, it’S true, Grand folks live within reach,
Here'S hot pie 'a la mode!' Roast! And quail cleaned by man! (15)

Now Christmas IS finished, kids play with their loot,
Brother’s itch IS for whiskey, Dad won’t, but plays cards,
Mom and Aunts cleaning up IS bit calmer pursuit,
Bear IS fond of adventure; we plumb neighbor’s yards.


35. Overnighting with Bear
But best thing (to last) IS Bear sleeping with me,
I feel ever so safe when he'S there by my side,
(Like the Winter IS warmer, like Spring'S destiny),
And swear "honest to Jesus," this bear IS my pride.

My hope IS you’ll all have friends loyal as he,
Frankly doubt, that it'S crucial if girl or if boy,
May you rest with God's servants whose love'S meant to be,
Share your path with companions whose joy IS your joy!

 
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The Poem Now Fast Forwards 70+ Years To The Night The First Stanzas Of This Poem Are Finished: 

The Poet Is Sitting Bemused At His Desk Wondering (As He Has Many Times Before) Why  He Can't Remember Ever Having A BIG Birthday Party Like Some Of His Classmates Had Where Many People Were Invited? Suddenly He IS Shamed By An Insight: "I Bet Neither Of My Parents Ever Had Such A Party Either," And His Sadness Shifts To Many Generations Before Him. It Is Not That He Was Denied A Party, Such Things Likely Were Uncommon In His Parent’s Childhood As Well!
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36. Mysterious Missing Birthday Parties
It’S seventy years now; no birthday stands out!
There’S no trace of a blowout on land or the sea.
Mom IS master cake baker so I shouldn’t pout,
Likely guests misremembered if it’S up to me!?

There’S bear I could ask, but his head’s sprung a leak,
Perhaps cake “ROM” (16) IS there, but gray fog rushes in,
And it’S such a long time since we slept cheek to cheek,
IS there possibly reader to help me with spin?


37. The Bear (And Poet) Vanish
“Oh, Bear! How I miss you! This path’S out of time,
Still, there'S hope our adventures will find a new shore,
Though my verse I think'S lovely, so far it’S my dime,
Here’S my hand, beary friend, let's explore evermore!”

“I’d love to,” Bear says as...


Brian Johnston (The Wizard of “IS”)
October 10, 2017

Poet’s Notes:
(15) Christmas and Thanksgiving were the two big events every year in my family. So I normally got Christmas presents on three separate occasions, at home on Christmas day and again at each Grandparent’s house. These holidays were also a time for quail hunting, and the men rarely failed to get enough birds to feed everyone. The women would cook the birds, but men had to clean them! And as a boy matured it was a ‘right of passage’ for him to be allowed to go hunting with the men and have a shotgun of his own.
(16) ROM – Read Only Memory. Bear, of course, is too old to have an electronic voice or need batteries, so he doesn’t have any ROM chips inside of him! One needs imagination, not ears, to hear Bear Johnston’s voice!