Silly Poems about Stuffed Animals

Sometimes when I am just sitting my bed listening to Kate through the monitor I hear her talking to her stuffy friends.  When it is quiet I think about them talking back to her.  I imagine them with their own feelings and personality.  It makes me laugh. It makes me feel good.  Sometimes, when the world seems grey, it is helpful to think in the voice of a stuffed animal.  Maybe someday Kate will read these and say “OMG, Dad is so lame”, but secretly think (oh, I remember all those guys, they made me feel good and loved).

The B Team

20160616_223126664_ios

Bug, Brownie, B’aa, and Bob – The B Team

Protect our charge, keep safe and sound
We are the Bs, we’re duty bound
At first just Brownie Bear was there
To soothe her fears when she is scared
Then later on came Beaver Bob
Providing comfort is his job
Then Baa’ the Lamb arrived on scene
Protecting from the unforeseen
A frog named Bug the last B in
He calms her down, when dreams do spin
In the morning with duty done
The Bs it seems are lots of fun
To laugh and joke and play with flair.
But when she sleeps they’ll be right there
With Baa’ and Bug and Bob and Brown
Four Bs stand watch while she lays down
Sweet dreams our charge, sleep well and sound
The Bs are here, with love we’re bound

Ely Bear
20160320_170319003_ios-2

Our friend named Ely ventures forth,
Among the lakes and trees up North.
He travels through the great Northwoods
Catching fish like a bear should.
Always exploring things, he’s bound
to kayak, swim and romp around.
Scruffy and rough, he’s brash and bold.
His biggest problem: he’s always cold
His bear fur coat seems not enough
To keep him warm when weather rough.
A fleece down vest, a trappers hat
Keep Ely warm, no doubt to that.
He tromps around, he picks berries,
Looking quite weird in hat and fleece.
A bear must do what bears must do
to keep a ramblin’ all day through
It keeps him warm, he does not care
Now in comfort, he can be bear.

Philben Bear20160320_170319003_ios-3

Long of arm and loopy of gait,
Philben the Bear is always late.
Try as he will, try as he might
It never seems to work just right
Set plans early, only to find
No matter what, He’s still behind
Run, running, run, all the way there
Still he is late, to his despair.
His friends never worry
They know he’ll appear
All huffy and furry
And full of good cheer.
With long arms that juggle.
He’s jolly and fun
On time is his struggle.
But the party’s begun

Turtle Monkey

20160320_154042737_ios-2In a mysterious swamp
down by the sea
Lives a friendly little chap,
the TurtleMonkey
He’s a little skittish
here’s how you tell
He scampers up the branch
and hides inside his shell
Swinging, jumping, swinging
in a mangrove tree.
Watch that TurtleMonkey
swim beneath the sea.

Clacky Pegicorn

20160413_042805918_ios-2Clarisse is a pegicorn,
about her fate she is forlorn.
She’s not like mom and not like dad,
a fact that makes her o’ so sad.
Her wings are small and not robust,
not like Mom the Pegasus.
Her fur is pink, She’s short on horn,
Not like Dad the unicorn.
Her wings they clack when she does run,
the others tease and have their fun.

Clacky Clacky Pegicorn, the biggest misfit ever born.

And so she cries and plays alone,
wishing, wishing to be all grown.
Oh Mama mama why am I this way,
why won’t the others let me play.
Her momma says we love you dear,
and of those kids have no fear.
They’re narrow minded silly twits,
you have heart, and guts, and wits.
The world is full of friends for you,
to seek them out is what to do.
Friends that love just who you are,
find those friends and you’ll go far.
So Clarisse left the foaling field,
and many friends her search did yield.
A loyal band of different kinds,
the one’s that easy friendship finds.
Bears and sloths and dogs and cows,
they greeted her with sacred vows.
Respect and love that’s what we do,
We are friends, now you are too.
The friends than ran, the friends they played,
they sought adventure day by day.
Her wings still rattle when she runs,
her friends don’t care about that none.
Just call me Clacky, I own that name,
her head held high and without shame.
And with her friend she runs about,
above the clack you hear them shout.

CLACKY, CLACKY PEGICORN, truest friend that’s ever born.

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Fatherhood, nostalgia, Poetry on the Blog, Stuffy Stories and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s