POOH
BEAR
he wasn’t yellow, he was red;
born one Christmas in a
stocking
on the end of John’s small
bed.
everywhere together
travelled,
till one day with all that
loving
Pooh’s red tummy came
unravelled.
coming out!’ ‘Don’t fret’
said Mum,
‘Here’s
a bit of good strong sort of
stripey fabric for your tum.’
tum and back and legs like
new;
Pooh
and John could go on playing -
that was all that bothered
Pooh.
Anyone who knows and loves A.A.Milne's writing will realise why I chose this Pooh Bear poem today. It's taken from a book of poems I wrote for my children about their special toys, and the story of John's Pooh Bear is true.
In fact, years later, I was asked to re-cover Pooh completely so that he would be hygienic enough for John's own son!
If you would like to read the book, it's on Amazon - STRIPEY CAT and Other Poems.
Thanks as ever to Rochelle, our never-failing hostess, and to Fleur Lind for this week's image, which took me straight to the Ashdown Forest in Sussex, UK, and to the tree in which lived the owl known to Christopher Robin as Wol.