Daring JearBear
He’s not the average scared bear,
He’s a bear that really dares.
Dares to climb high into the sky,
up to his tree house as bees fly by.
Bees flying around his honeycomb,
Really close to his tree house home.
He swats them away with his big bear claw,
Then he goes into his house and has a gnaw.
He naws on his favorite bite,
It’s a hamburgers filled with dust mites.
Then he goes to cut some zzzz’s
Then he starts to dream,
of funny things like buzzing bees.
Then he feels a sting,
it’s a real bee stinging his knee.
He jumps up and makes a roar,
he runs out his tree house door.
Jumps down to the ground
and jumps in the lake,
he feels relief and has a great day.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on September 20,2011
www.christinasunrise.com www.purplepoems.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Daring JearBear
He's not the average scared bear,
He's a bear that really dares.
Dares to climb high into the sky,
up to his tree house as bees fly by.
Bees flying around his honeycomb,
Really close to his tree house home.
He swats them away with his big bear claw,
Then he goes into his house and has a gnaw.
He naws on his favorite bite,
It's a hamburgers filled with dust mites.
Then he goes to cut some zzzz's
Then he starts to dream,
of funny things like buzzing bees.
Then he feels a sting,
it's a real bee stinging his knee.
He jumps up and makes a roar,
he runs out his tree house door.
Jumps down to the ground
and jumps in the lake,
he feels relief and has a great day.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on September 20,2011
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Black Dog and Brown Bear
Fall down like a leaf on a tree
fall asleep one, two, three.
Deep, deep in a slumber
mind dreaming on in great wonder.
Colorful characters enter stage left
then a dog with star on it's chest.
You are now in a circus event
smell of popcorn in a large tent.
The black dog jumps through a square
lands in the paws of a big brown bear.
People gasp, fright feels the air—
bear is mechanical so no worries or cares.
Audience claps and whistles out loud
black dog and brown bear take a bow.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on September 16,2012
www.suzae.com
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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The Wrong House
I went into a house, and it wasn't a house,
It has big steps and a great big hall;
But it hasn't got a garden,
A garden,
A garden,
It isn't like a house at all.
I went into a house, and it wasn't a house,
It has a big garden and great high wall;
But it hasn't got a may-tree,
A may-tree,
A may-tree,
It isn't like a house at all.
I went into a house, and it wasn't a house -
Slow white petals from the may-tree fall;
But it hasn't got a blackbird,
A blackbird,
A blackbird,
It isn't like a house at all.
I went into a house, and I thought it was a house,
I could hear from the may-tree the blackbird call…
But nobody listened to it,
Nobody
Liked it,
Nobody wanted it at all.
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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Not Finished
A perfect night
the stars are sparkling bright
staring into the sky,
the little house in the creek
sits nestled under the tall mossy tree
the house aged by nature...beautiful
as the rain starts to pour
the tall mossy tree protects the house and its front door
the mossy tree bears the weight of the sky
as the house is kept dry
more clouds swarm in recklessly
lightning cracks as it sets fire to the tall mossy tree
the tree stands strong....
but i doesn't know if it can last long
as the rain runs down the tree's trunk and roots
like tears
poem by Wandering Scarlet
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My! My! Honeycomb
(ronnie scott/ steve wolfe)
Producers for bonnie: ronnie scott, steve wolfe
Recorded in 1975, this was bonnies first ever recording! lyrics taken from careful listening.
Here I am in the city
With a picture of you in my head
I remember that night
The words you said
You told me I was pretty
With the moon shining down on my hair
Im hung up on you now
But youre not there
My! my! honeycomb
The bees are buzzing, the birds have flown
Wild, wild honeycomb, leave my honey alone
My! my! honeycomb
The bees are buzzing, I should have known
Sweet, sweet honeycomb, leave my honey alone
Wrote you so many letters
I was hoping youd answer with flowers
Then I sat by myself
To watch the hours
But you didnt come boy
Not a word, not a call, not a thing
Dont you know how it hurts me
When you sting
My! my! honeycomb
The bees are buzzing, the birds have flown
Wild, wild honeycomb, leave my honey alone
My! my! honeycomb
The bees are buzzing, I should have known
Sweet, sweet honeycomb, leave my honey alone
Leave my honey alone
My! my! honeycomb
The bees are buzzing, the birds have flown
Wild, wild honeycomb, leave my honey alone
My! my! honeycomb
The bees are buzzing, I should have known
Sweet, sweet honeycomb, leave my honey alone
song performed by by Bonnie Tyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tree Climbing
When I was 6 years of age,
I would go tree climbing all through the day.
My older brother would say to his friends,
“My sister Suzy can climb highest, you want to bet? ”
I would then look up at the tallest tree,
I knew I could make it without falling on my knee.
Yes, I would go straight to the top,
the top of the highest tree and then I’ld stop,
I would look down to see the world,
I was the happiest little girl.
All the trees where close together,
I felt like a bird with a lot of feathers.
I had made it to where the birds do roam,
I was at the top of the tower at my throne.
This reminds me of “Rising of the Planet of the Apes,
When Cornelius was happy to escape.
Climbing the tallest tree,
watching him brought back memories.
Memories of my tree climbing days,
I will always remember it in a special kind of way.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on August 28,2011
www.purplepoems.com www.christinasunrise.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
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M.D. The Bear
With the initials M.D.
it isn’t to hard to plainly see.
That he is Spanish with his blazing eyes,
he looks like a Bear that would terrorize.
Any cooked sandwich made of fish,
that is his favorite dinner dish.
At the Grumpy Grouper he does eat,
he has a beer and raises his feet.
Now he bought me a small breakfast the other day,
it was in Lantana, not in Del Ray.
Now M.D.’s son’s birthday is on the 19th,
his son is a teenager who is only sixteen.
Soon more of M.D.’s pension will come in,
he will have a great life living in sin.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on September 16,2011
www.christinasunrise.com www.purplepoems.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Every House
Every house has a sun and moon,
And a little porcelain cup,
And a little silver spoon;
Every house has laughter and pain,
And feels the kiss of a needed rain.
Every house has a pet or two,
A cat in the tree,
A dove that coo;
Every house has a little mouse,
Lives in a hole he never comes out.
Every house has a window or two,
And some grass and trees,
And a sky that's blue;
Every house has a child that dreams,
As he plucks at raw reality's seams.
poem by Patti Masterman
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They're To Succeed
Passing by they stopped and parked
Such lovely blossom seems so sweet.
Gladly indeed they thought it's a treat
They rushed in! Out came a swarm of bees
The bees cried chop, cho. They're a happy fleet
They watched them keep busy around the tree.
In this world of ours, it there wild world.
Funny these people never stopped to ask
They've to achieved between those tree.
God provided and restored life indeed
All on there own enjoying the breeze around the tree.
Know hand out stretched in the tree
They roam through the field to succeed
Move from three to tree to fulfill their needs
Stopped in all most every tree they meet
They have to survive on the ground to the tree.
poem by Delores V. Bogle
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Pagan Place
Jer Bear and Mikey Mouse,
smoked pot in Pagan house.
Pagan house had bugs inside,
and rats that crawled the sides,
now this is where I used to reside.
Spider woman lived below me
with clothes black and white,
and Top Dog in front house
blasting radio into the night.
It was the Pagan House with
Stories that were a disgrace,
it was a weird and crazy place.
My pup Shieka was stolen on
The sidewalk,
across from the table where
I used to talk…to Lu Lu who
told me a thing or two.
Luckily Sheikee my new pup
showed up,
Just that week,
she was shy and meek.
These were my best memories,
on Ocean Breeze.
Written by Christina Sunrise on Feb.7,2011
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Ted Nugent
with long hair and narrow face
he jumps around all over the place.
Jumping high, jumping low
he swings from a twisted swinging rope.
Wild rock songs he does play
in Iowa Jam surrounded by hay.
Years later I would inherit a ring
from precious mother Jean that is more than bling.
Ted Nugent is Jean's cousin too-
ring reminds me of them, it's the color of blue.
A print of Ted Nugent is in the Marathon Music Center's shop
I might buy it, for Ted Nugent looks really hot
I'll wear an outfit like his and dance till I drop.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on September 14,2011
www.suzae.com www.suechevalier.com
www.christinasunrise.com
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Return To Pooh Corner
Christopher robin and I walked along
Under branches lit up by the moon
Posing our questions to owl and eeyore
As our days disappeared all too soon
But Ive wandered much further today than I should
And I cant seem to find my way back to the wood
So help me if you can
Ive got to get back
To the house at pooh corner by one
Youd be surprised
Theres so much to be done
Count all the bees in the hive
Chase all the clouds from the sky
Back to the days of christopher robin and pooh
Winnie the pooh doesnt know what to do
Got a honey jar stuck on his nose
He came to me asking help and advice
And from here no one knows where he goes
So I sent him to ask of the owl if hes there
How to loosen a jar from the nose of a bear
Its hard to explain how a few precious things
Seem to follow throughout all our lives
After alls said and done I was watching my son
Sleeping there with my bear by his side
So I tucked him in, I kissed him and as I was going
I swear that the old bear whispered boy welcome home
Believe me if you can
Ive finally come back
To the house at pooh corner by one
What do you know
Theres so much to be done
Count all the bees in the hive
Chase all the clouds from the sky
Back to the days of christopher robin
Back to the ways of christopher robin
Back to the days of pooh
song performed by by Kenny Loggins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ghosts By Moon Lake
There's a lake off of Moon Lake Road,
where stories are woven and retold.
about longtime gangster Al Capone.
Now I stayed in a house
right across the street,
and believe me I did not see,
but I heard a ghost talk to me.
See now legend has it,
that Al put people in this lake,
Now ghosts are around make no mistake.
I was in this house with Uncle Lenny,
he wasn't scared for he couldn't
hear a dropp of a penny.
He told me the ghosts leave him alone,
for they know he's handicapped
unlike his nephew Tone.
Yes, Tony said he heard them too,
I don't know if he's lying
or what he says is true.
All I know I don't want to go back,
you can laugh at me and call me a quack.
I'ld rather see a ghost
then have one move my stuff,
that is scary and this I can't rebuff,
It's not like eating at Denny's
and having a lunch,
I believe in ghosts with an
absolute hunch.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on Feb.21,2011
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Guy Has The Best
Guy with no last name is the best,
He is a way, way above the rest.
For they are not in his stratosphere,
He has cute eyes, and a cute rear.
I have the experience I'm totally sincere.
I imagined me flying in to see him,
on one of my many trips,
pay him to be a masseuse
and massage my hips.
Hey, you have to have an entourage
Guy with no last name has a great sausage.
Italian sausage that is,
That was the favorite dinner in my house as a kid.
My cousins where Italians so we picked it up from them.
I digress, yes, Guy is the best, I do confess.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on August 16,2011
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Monkey struggle
Skinny legged monkey
Jumps from tree to tree
Giggling loud at spree
To be at last free
Incapable to comprehend
In his peanut sized brain
There was nothing he could gain
As he didn’t drive the train
He kept jumping from tree to tree
Train kept moving with full speed
Enhancing the unjustifiable greed
Ignoring the red signals, refusing to heed
The jugglers laughed and laughed
Leting loose the rope
When spectators clinged to hope
Trusting the monkey will finally cope
Poor little monkey did whatever he could
To avoid the inevitable crash
With high jumps and dash
By making everything a mash
By jumping from tree to tree
The Giving Tree
Once there was a tree....
and she loved a little boy.
And everyday the boy would come
and he would gather her leaves
and make them into crowns
and play king of the forest.
He would climb up her trunk
and swing from her branches
and eat apples.
And they would play hide-and-go-seek.
And when he was tired,
he would sleep in her shade.
And the boy loved the tree....
very much.
And the tree was happy.
But time went by.
And the boy grew older.
And the tree was often alone.
Then one day the boy came to the tree
and the tree said, 'Come, Boy, come and
climb up my trunk and swing from my
branches and eat apples and play in my
shade and be happy.'
'I am too big to climb and play' said
the boy.
'I want to buy things and have fun.
I want some money?'
'I'm sorry,' said the tree, 'but I
have no money.
I have only leaves and apples.
Take my apples, Boy, and sell them in
the city. Then you will have money and
you will be happy.'
And so the boy climbed up the
tree and gathered her apples
and carried them away.
And the tree was happy.
But the boy stayed away for a long time....
and the tree was sad.
And then one day the boy came back
and the tree shook with joy
and she said, 'Come, Boy, climb up my trunk
and swing from my branches and be happy.'
'I am too busy to climb trees,' said the boy.
'I want a house to keep me warm,' he said.
'I want a wife and I want children,
and so I need a house.
Can you give me a house ?'
' I have no house,' said the tree.
'The forest is my house,
but you may cut off
my branches and build a
house. Then you will be happy.'
And so the boy cut off her branches
and carried them away
to build his house.
And the tree was happy.
But the boy stayed away for a long time.
And when he came back,
the tree was so happy
she could hardly speak.
'Come, Boy,' she whispered,
'come and play.'
'I am too old and sad to play,'
said the boy.
'I want a boat that will
take me far away from here.
Can you give me a boat?'
'Cut down my trunk
and make a boat,' said the tree.
'Then you can sail away...
and be happy.'
And so the boy cut down her trunk
and made a boat and sailed away.
And the tree was happy
... but not really.
And after a long time
the boy came back again.
'I am sorry, Boy,'
said the tree,' but I have nothing
left to give you -
My apples are gone.'
'My teeth are too weak
for apples,' said the boy.
'My branches are gone,'
said the tree. ' You
cannot swing on them - '
'I am too old to swing
on branches,' said the boy.
'My trunk is gone, ' said the tree.
'You cannot climb - '
'I am too tired to climb' said the boy.
'I am sorry,' sighed the tree.
'I wish that I could give you something....
but I have nothing left.
I am just an old stump.
I am sorry....'
'I don't need very much now,' said the boy.
'just a quiet place to sit and rest.
I am very tired.'
'Well,' said the tree, straightening
herself up as much as she could,
'well, an old stump is good for sitting and resting
Come, Boy, sit down. Sit down and rest.'
And the boy did.
And the tree was happy.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Birds Live Peacefully
Birds, birds everywhere
flying through the sky without a care.
Reminding us how graceful life can be
as they fly from tree to tree.
Singing so very happily.
Singing songs of love and light
flying gracefully with delight.
Landing on their claws outstretched
landing in their straw filled nests.
Feeding their offspring worms from dirt
protecting them so they don't get hurt.
Pushing them to leave the nest
so they can fly like all the rest.
Flying high and flying low
they will be like their parents on the go.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on June 18,2012
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Seen in a Glass
Behind the tree, behind the house, behind the stars
In the presence that I cannot see
Otherwise than as house and stars and tree.
Tree, house and stars
Extend to infinity within themselves
Into the mystery of the world
Where whirl the wheels of power whose pulse beat
Out of nothing, out of night,
Leaves, stones and fires,
The living tree whose maypole dance
Of chromosome and nucleus
Traces the maze of boughs and leaves.
The standing house of stone that poured
In molten torrent when was hurled
Out of chaos this great world,
And suns whose kindling begins anew
Or ends the course that tree, house, world move through.
Upheld by being that I cannot know
In other form than stars and stones and trees
Assume in nature’s glass, in nature’s eyes.
poem by Kathleen Jessie Raine
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The Cherry Tree
The Cherry Tree
There was a Cherry Tree,
In our house at Number Three;
‘T was a variety from Singapore,
Presented by a friend, now no more.
On the western side of our house,
To be away from the straying cows;
It was planted—a sapling, rare,
And nurtured with ample care.
Soon with shoots it grew tall,
And was high above the compound wall;
Pride in us did surely swell,
To behold the tree growing so well,
Its branches now did spread and sprawl,
And to the next house too it did crawl;
Its shade permeated through to the hall,
And ushered in cool breeze to us all.
The white blossoms of the cherry,
Drew swarms of bees—so merry,
Raw green cherries then popped,
Which turned bright red and dropped.
The green tree with cherries so red,
Was like an ornament with rubies studded;
It was sure a splendid sight,
Even in the glow of the moon-lit night.
The cherry fruits tasted very sweet,
Though for some it wasn't a treat;
To crush a fruit ‘twixt your teeth'
A current of joy ran underneath.!
Many were the children of the street,
Who vied for the cherries so sweet;
They'd climb the tree, up to pick,
And fill their pockets till there were sick.
The crows would claim the tree their own,
And feed the nestlings with cherries grown,
Dawn would hail the cuckoo's spree,
With its sonorous call from atop the tree.
Under the shade of the cherry tree,
On the landing of stairs, with glee,
I've oft with it mute communion held,
And there, have many a poem, spelled.
This Cherry Tree, so much prized,
After eight years was much disguised;
Alas! It lost its branches and was browned,
With out-stretched limbs, to be razed to ground! .
The Cherry Tree is now no more,
As I pen this, I miss it as ne'er before;
But to eye its photograph, my heart does leap,
And a warmth in me does truly seep!
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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California Fate
Traveling far and traveling fast,
going to California at last.
Surprises await, so I must not hesitate,
I've seen the Golden bridge with the gate.
and also Big Bear Lake,
But this time I will seal my fate,
making Razel very Great,
but of course Melodie will have her say,
she will win the prize at the end of the day.
Written by Suzae Chevalier Jan.14th 2011
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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