My Teddy Bear

My Teddy Bear

If you are ready, I’ll tell of my Teddy
Which was old and was missing one eye.
His coat was threadbare, he was short of some hair.
But he still was a lovely old guy.

His growler was strong, deep throated and long
All it took was a tilt to and fro
Then you could hear, his growl loud and clear
That’s when with pride, I would glow.

I remember his paws, which were soft, without claws
And his body with wood shavings was stuffed
No matter his filling, I always was willing
To hug him and show he was loved.

His face was cute I suppose, with a little black nose
And he had this incredible smile
I’m sure this little chappy, was really quite happy
To stick with me, mile after mile.

But this story is sad, in fact really quite bad
As he’s lost and nowhere to be seen.
But alas and alack, if he ever comes back

Will he tell me of where he has been?

I feared it too late, and he met his fate
when he was accidentally misplaced
but the charity shop, would care not a jot
and think him a bear quite disgraced

 As it happened one day, down granny’s way
When I left poor Teddy behind
she stitched and she patched, though nothing quite matched
he became in fact, re-designed.

 A button replaced, the missing eye on his face
his body, a mix of her crafts, very neat
his face was now knitted, and crochet now kitted
his little paws (both his hands and his feet)

To add to his charms, he had black woollen arms
From the rag bag, he had the best
purple velvet on bum, and covered his tum
matched the purple crochet on chest

 He was a model quite fitting, to my granny’s knitting
Each stitch she created with love
So you see my dismay, when he went away
He’s special, unique, a ‘one-off’

 He’d been born long ago, what date, I don’t know
but around 1890 I believe
No label had he, he was worth more to me
that’s why for dear Teddy I grieve.

 ©Agnes M Wilson




Welcome to ‘Granny’s Attic’

I remember my forays into my paternal grandparent’s attic. The loft ladder had to be brought down to access it and it was packed full of curious items. I didn’t mind the dust and cobwebs because there was always something new to discover.

I have a strong memory of the smells of their house. Camphor in particular as most of the wardrobes had mothballs popped in the pockets of some of the garments. The attic had a pleasant smell in spite of the dust and cobwebs, just the smell of old wood. There were no objections to me being around as long as I was well behaved and treated everything with respect.

I have kept and stored many things because some day they may become useful. I recycle and upcycle as much as I can because unfortunately the current ‘throwaway’ habit is polluting the planet and the earth is scarred with rotting waste in landfill sites. I also like to know some things are there if I want to use them. I learned a lot from my parents and grandparents, they were the best teachers in the world, and I appreciate what values they have instilled in me.

Attics, cupboards and even sheds are full of treasures you may not have a use for but you don’t want to throw out. They don’t have to be antique or of high monetary value but they are our treasures. I have thrown out many things because I felt the time had come to let go or either that my mind was made up for me if they started falling apart.