My Teddy Bear

My Teddy Bear

I have a little teddy bear
Who’s always there for me,
When I need someone to talk to
He listens quietly.

He doesn’t get mad or yell
Or ever put me down,
He never gets jealous or envious
And never has a frown.

When I need a hug he’s there
Waiting with open paws,
His eye is broken, his arm is ripped
But I don’t mind his flaws.

I love my little teddy bear
With his cute little face,
And if we were more like
Teddy bears the world
Would be a better place.
Author: Unknown

My Teddy Bear was getting old.

My teddy bear was getting old
I showed him to my dad.
The threads that made his mouth were gone.
My teddy looked so sad.

His round dark eyes were crooked
His button nose hung down.
It made me cry to look at him,
My teddy, soft and brown.

A jagged hole showed stuffing
Poking through a long one side.
And I hugged him oh, so gently,
So it wouldn’t get more wide.

When daddy showed my mommy,
She fixed him up like new.
His button nose was tight now,
His mouth was smiling, too.

His eyes were side by side again
Just like they used to be.
And when I sat and talked to him,
He could look right back at me.

She pushed the stuffing in again
Then sewed the hole with thread.
And when I went to sleep last night,
He was with me in my bed.

You know that someone loves you
By the little things they do.
At times like this, it means much more
Than saying, “I love you.”

J. Henck

Oh Teddy.

Oh teddy, you’re so brilliant.
I love you, you’re so fine.
You only have one eye left, but
I’m so glad that you’re mine.

Oh teddy, you’re so cuddly,
I love you, you’re so fine
Your stuffing is all coming out
But I’m still glad you’re mine.

Oh teddy, you’re so fluffy
I love you, you’re so fine.
Your tummy’s nearly threadbare but
That’s how I know you’re mine.

Oh teddy, you’re so soothing
I love you, you’re so fine.
I wish your lullabies still played….
But never mind; you’re mine!

Oh teddy you’re so unique
I love you, you’re so fine.
You know so many secrets and
Of course, they are all mine!

My teddy’s irreplaceable
I love him, he’s so fine
I bet you love your teddy too
As much as I love mine.

Author: Unknown

A Date with Teddy

My bear and I went out last night
it was our final date. I had to say farewell to him
“Cause time just would not wait.”

My mother said the day had come
to pack my toys away.
I guess that I was all grown up
and they were in the way.

My bear had always been so neat
the toy I liked the best.
I never thought that I’d be asked
to put my bear to rest.

But as we all begin to grow
some things don’t go our way
and many times we feel sad
so sad that we can’t play.

That’s how I felt when mom announced
that time was passing by
so I asked teddy for a date
I’m sure he wondered why.

We took a walk around the block
and ate two candy bars
then sat out on the big porch swing
and looked up at the stars.

I had to have a talk with him
as private as could be
there were so many things to say
between just him and me.

I thanked him for his many hugs
and his great listening ears
for all the nights he kept me warm
and helped remove my fears.

He always had such smiling eyes
so precious and so dear
but this time as I reached for him
I thought I saw a tear.

Could I have touched his little heart
and caused my bear to cry
with feelings so emotional
I thought I hear him sigh.

I rubbed my eyes in disbelief
then recognized that he was fine.
The tear had fallen from my cheek
it wasn’t his, but mine.

My brother looked at me and stared
he didn’t understand,
my bear was not an old stuffed toy
he was my dearest friend.

I wrapped him in a tiny cloth
and hugged him oh so tight
then packed him in an old shoebox
and gently said, “Goodnight.”

My father took my special box
and placed it in a trunk
then hauled it to the attic room
with all our other junk.

So many thoughts came to my mind
as I hopped into bed
first came glorious memories
then worry filled my head.

I hope he doesn’t mind the dark,
the dampness or the cold,
his body seemed so weak and frail
it’s worn and rather old.

But this was just a teddy bear
how could you feel this way
if made me think of grandma’s words
“All things must pass away.”

I felt a sense of lonliness
and kind of insecure.
My bear had brought me hours of joy
so innocent and pure.

To give him up was very sad
and seemed a bit unfair,
yet that’s the way life had us part
my friend, my love, my bear.

I hope that he’ll remember me
when I am old and gray
’cause I may need him once again
to help me through the day

Autor Unknown

The Joy of making Teddy Bears

When the fur finally arrives I look and see
And think to myself what kind of bear will this be
Will I use the mohair or alpaca so bold
What colour will I select, brown, beige or old gold
A limited edition or one of a kind
If only I could decide and make up my mind
Will I make it big or will I make it quite small
I could make it fat, or thin, or just rather tall
Will I use my black antique shoe buttons for eyes
Or just stick to black glass and hope for a surprise
How about the paws, will I use wool felt or suede
I really don’t know yet and I’m rather afraid
To start drawing and cutting for once I begin
There is no turning back so I’ll just dig right in
When the fur starts to fly and each tiny wee piece
Begins to take shape then I feel such a release
And think to myself no more tension or worry
As this sweet little bear so cuddly and furry
Is making me smile with every stitch that I sew
As his sweet face takes on shape I just start to glow
There is nothing more splendid that can so endice
One to create something so innocent and nice
You can tell by my poem, I love making my bears
You’ve discovered my secret for ending life’s fears

Autor: Sharon Tholinson

I have a little teddy bear
He’s as old as he can be.
Although I squash him when I sleep,
I think he’s fond of me.
His eyes are hanging by a thread,
his stuffing coming out.
But still he sits upon my bed
and never seems to pout.
He comforts me when I am sad
he gives me good advice.
I think my little teddy bear
is awfully, awfully nice.

I believe that I memorized this from a book in a collection called “The Children’s Hour” of stories or something like that. There were about 10 hardbound volumes in red. Circa 1955. (john sortore)