The Curious Cub's Birthday Quest

There once lived an inquisitive bear cub, The youngest bear in his sloth, Carefree, he’d spend his days at play, Up in trees or down in the undergrowth.

He’d follow his nose, seeking food and fun, Which worried his anxious mother, His dad would growl “Don’t wander off!” Which flew in the one ear and out the other.

One day, in the forest, he felt rather bored, So, he turned to his family to play. “I’m busy,” said mum and dad added “Me too!” His big brother said “No, go away!”

So, alone he wandered, on yet another adventure, When he caught a sweet sniff on the air, Without pause for thought, or thought for his paws, Through the forest he started to tear.

He soon found himself at the clearing, At a large house on the outskirts of the town, A huge wooden fence stood before him, Far too long to be running around.

He stared up at the tall wooden planks, And noticed a small circular hole, It was just big enough for the cub to peer through, And he was tranced by the glance that he stole.

For on the other side of the fence, Was a display so busily bustling, Full of laughing, jumping and jigging, And of treats for gobbling and guzzling.

The young bear was excited by this dazzling find, In awe of its colourful array, When all of a sudden, the crowd fell quiet, And an unfamiliar tune started to play.

“Happy Birthday to you” Sang the guests by flickering candle glow, “What is a birthday?” puzzled the bear, And he huffed “How can I find my own?”

From up above, perched high on the fence, A plump grey pigeon pointed and cooed, “A birthday always has lots to eat. So, why not look for some yummy, sweet food!”

With a snort and a sniff, the cub caught a whiff, Of a delicious scent on the breeze, Quick on his feet, he swept down the street, Finding a window with a sugary tease.

Through the glass pane he saw iced cakes piled high, And shelves of pastries and puddings galore, With his nose still leading him eagerly, He stepped in through the bakery’s door.

Past giant sweet jars, and great glugging syrups, And machines that twirled, squashed, and squished, His eyes grew wide, his mouth started to water, But this dreamy state’s end was swift.

For all of a sudden came a shuddering smash! “Get out!” a red-faced baker did bellow, Pots and pans clattered and crashed, And the cub ran away from the floury fellow.

“I don’t think my birthday was there” he whined, As he sadly hung his bear head down low, “Cheer up! Birthdays are supposed to be fun” squeaked a mouse from the ground below.

“Do you know where I might find my birthday?” asked the bear, The mouse nodded, picking up some litter left discarded, “I know a place you most definitely should look” And he passed over the map that he’d charted.

“It has toys, tricks, sand pits and slime, clocks to climb, and a puppetry circus!” Excitement again grew inside the bear, And off he went with a renewed sense of purpose.

Upon finally reaching the mouse’s toy shop, He spied an amusement floor of fun-filled stuff, From puzzles to planes that flashed lights as they flew, Then a magician appeared with a smoky pink puff!

“This shop’s not for bears, my fuzzy little friend, So, I’m afraid I must insist that you leave!” With a zippety zap, he cast the cub out to the street, With a wand he’d had tucked up his sleeve.

“I don’t think my birthday was there” groaned the bear, Pawing at the ground he let out a big sigh, “Birthdays are about doing something nuts!” chirped a nearby squirrel And it pointed up above the trees to the sky.

Looking up, he saw the blue, red and yellow, Of a huge hot air balloon taking flight, And without time to spare, away sprung the bear, Reaching the basket and clinging on tight!

Up, up, up, the bear and balloon flew higher, His paws got all sweaty, and his legs started to shake, “I don’t think my birthday is here!” gasped the cub, “I believe I’ve made an awful mistake!”

Whooshing by quickly below him, He spied the green leafy tops of his forest’s trees, All he wanted now was to be safe back home, With eyes closed, he let go, and slipped away on the breeze.

Down, down, down he went tumbling