girl, bed and bear

in response to a We Write Poems community prompt.

 
a tall tale told about a girl, a bed and a pear
 
Once upon a bed a pear came to sit and rest.
It was a very wild pear!  So wild in fact it hadn’t
been plucked, but rather had leapt right free
from its tree.

A pear of unusual intent, no doubt.
A pear covered completely in fur, peach-perfect
except for the big wet nose that smelled
just like vanilla soap.  Yep, unusual
for a pear like we said!

Grrr! said the pear, for it was wild indeed.
And Grrr! just seemed the right sort of thing
to announce.  Grrr! once more for emphasis,
not wanting to leave even a shred of doubt.
Pears are like that, single minded to the core!

Ummph, said bed, you’re very heavy for a pear.
Rather ripe, yes I am, said pear, feeling down
in his belly another Grrr! eagerly coming on.
While I’m certainly glad to accommodate both
your wait and weight, I wonder if you’ll soon
be moving on, a small second Ummph just
slipping out.

You talk a lot for a mattress, frame and
two sheets, said pear, and he was right.
Beds are better left unspoken to, but then
that rabbit was now well out of the hat!

Grrr! Grrr!, pear impatiently intoned,
what shall I do?  Muffled but clear, bed spoke
from beneath the sheets.  Please please
if you will, leave and I’ll reveal my magic to you.
Grrr!, I will I will, ripe pear stuttered back.

I will, Grrr!, I will.  Snow me peas!
Now not having very good diction, as most
pears don’t, “Grrr! – I – will” transmogrified,
what surprise!, into G – I – R – L, and in the
twinkle of a transitive verb, turned right into
a real live girl!

Pretty good magic thought the pear!

Such is the power of spoken word,
even when uttered by a ripe and furry pear.

And the girl was famished, being born
so late in life, so she ate the pear all right up!

And that’s the truth, so help me pear!,
as told by a bed, half-deaf & blind you see
and also the end, as they say.

 
 

neil reid © july 2011

commentary:
Demonstrating a shameless disregard for good sense and poetry!

And somebody asked (you know who you are) for a story poem, so here, delivered as requested now!

Further illustrating that not every bear is exactly what they seem.  Nor is a photograph literal evidence for what a mind might do while sitting in a car, round-about lunch time, pen in hand as it were.  And what’s a poor poem supposed to do with itself?  Gone fishing it seems, and this is what was left behind.  But seriously, I’m serious a lot, and this isn’t!  Karma back in balance perhaps.

And I stand corrected now to make more evident and add one solitary pair of “quotes” as you’ll see included now, as yes, “Grrr – I – will” is in fact one whole object becoming another.  More clear?  (Yes dear.)