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My Teddy Bear
He sits upon his pillowed throne
A joyous smile upon his face.
And though his ears may seem outgrown
He carries them with pride and grace.
He's never cross or quick to carp
A friend in need he is to me.
When human tongues are mean and sharp
My Teddy gives me sympathy.
To him I always bare my soul
He lifts me when I'm feeling low.
And when I brag and miss my goal
He never says, 'I told you so.'
My friends many titter gleefully
And some may tease, but I don't care.
I hope that I will never be
Too old to love my Teddy bear.
by
Jeffrey S. Foreman
