Young Frances was a lion, but he thought he was a bear.
And as he was a lion, he’d an awful lot of hair.
His hair was golden brown, and fell long around his head;
except for on the parts where there was hair that’s short instead.
Now Frances, that young lion (who so wished he was a bear),
thought that he should hibernate, but didn’t quite know where.
He didn’t know of caves and such as all those real bears do,
and so, he wandered to and fro, then wandered fro and to.
Until Frances, the young lion (who thought he was a bear),
found his way into a house where he found Grandma’s chair.
He placed his massive body, with his lovely golden hair,
upon the cosy cushions and he hibernated there.
Now Frances the bear-lion, who was not a teddy bear,
had just begun to fall asleep, when Grandma saw him there.
Well, she saw the golden hair that fell long around his head,
and didn’t think he was a bear, but her granddaughter instead.
Then Frances, the young lion, who thought he was a bear,
awoke wrapped in a giant hug from Grandma, in her chair.
Young Frances purred with pleasure as he felt so safe and sound.
He didn’t feel the least confused: he felt that he’d been found.
Young Frances was a lion, who once thought he was a bear;
he doesn’t care now what he is, as long as Grandma’s there.
© Kristin Martin 2012