Old Bear

The bear sits on the chair
watching, waiting
Listening to endless conversations.
He sits and stares
as people walk up and down,
the stairs
leading up to wonders and mysteries.
He sits and stares
but, does nothing else.
Two buttoned eyes
with a nose,
and a mouth.

Even though he may not seem to smile,
he always smiles to me.
I haven’t seen him in a while,
but he always recognises me.
I remember his inside smile,
and his warming heart.
But he is still sitting there,
on his little chair.