Russ

My mother's soft, sweet perfume,
Lingering on its fur.
Warm and worn out fluff,
Gentle beneath my fingers.
The soothing embrace of childhood,
Beckons from years ago.

I respond to its call,
Craving times gone by.
I soften in its presence,
Never knowing bliss like this.
Its comforting figure watches over me,
As I lie fast asleep.
Watching for monsters in the dark,
And devils in my dreams.

My mind flits back years ago,
To a more peaceful time.
When comfort and peace and quiet
Weren't difficult to find.
All these memories entwined in the fuzz,
Of a beautiful, little bear named Russ.