"Golden Locks and the Bear" by Jessica Danielle Cannon

Golden Locks and the Bear

I

A treasured child amongst many,

A little girl loved by all close.

Sister dear and brother so loved,

Apple sweet laugh and red-lipped rose. 

But not all babes are beautiful,

And your fickle hearts may stray yet. 

Many a child has been loved so

Though they wail and kick, sulk or fret. 

Some daisy yellow or deep brown

With golden locks, dark or warm red. 

Pity the poor who were never loved

Never kissed, or cuddled, or held. 

Pity those children but love all

Sweet blue-eyed or bruised-eyed as one. 

Listen to a tale from times past

And remember when I am done. 

Remember the girl, young and sweet

Imagine her family, too. 

Some small prank deserved a quick scold

As all mothers must someday do

But the girl fled with teary eyes

To sulk in some cool shady glen. 

But no woods are without evil

When in them lurk the hearts of men. 

Wand’ring lost, she turned from the path

And wound her way through the thick trees. 

Tired, hungry, longing for home

And the comfort of family. 

She chanced upon a hidden hut

And knocked lightly upon the door. 

Hearing no call she slipped inside,

Her feet leaving prints on the floor. 

There was some food set out for her

Some warm broth in a childlike bowl.

Fed, she slipped down from the high chair

To seek a warm bed or cradle. 

She stoutly climbed a creaky stair

And soon found an inviting bed. 

Here she rested, eyes barely closed

Before dreams had filled her young head. 

Now while she sleeps, I shall reveal

The dark horror she did not find. 

Seven small graves behind that hut,

And the ghosts of her murdered kind. 

From the forest emerges a man

Cloaked with the skin of a black bear

Thrust in his belt a sharp hunter’s knife,

Which he grips as he climbs the stair. 

II

She lay asleep alone in there

Flushed red roses for her cheeks

On her softest pink petal skin

Framed about with her golden hair. 

In the warm noon, now she can sleep

Never hearing his great step on the stair. 

III

She woke hoping to see a dear face

But saw only a scarred cold stare. 

He struck with bitter hatred and speed

One more life stolen in his lair. 

Her soft locks torn, her body broken

His hands slippery with her young blood. 

Dragged into the garden outside

Her lifeless corpse was tossed in the mud. 

First her kin knew not where she had gone

‘Till they found her bloodied gown torn. 

On it, the stink of bear and some hairs

And so a small legend was born. 

But then more children who wandered far

In those same dark woods all alone

Suffered a too similar fate,

The bears leaving a scrap or a bone. 

The father who found the last omen

Had lost a child but kept his head. 

And he found the marks left by a knife

Scored deep – not the marks of a bear! 

He told all the adults and in time

They all knew the secret that hid

Protected by fairy tales so long,

And lived in the deep dark woods’ midst. 

IV

When they sought his foul and rank dark den

Their angry search found it too soon. 

And they caught the monster unawares

Dragged to the square – and hung at noon. 

For once, the children could not see this

They were told of a bear all black

And bore a thick skin to prove their words

The young slept well, with sweet dreams back. 

Children of today are much older

So you must know the true story. 

Great bears and wolves will never murder –

Only cold men are that gory. 

The child you saw die, lost so cruelly

Had no chance to scream or protest. 

Others fled, some tried to fight or hide

They suffered the same as the rest. 

To all children:  Beware of strangers

Never leave your family’s care. 

And for all those sad ones lost, who did… 

They will always be missed and rare. 

Mothers and fathers of children dear

Hold tight your dear beloved child. 

Watch them grow strong but always beware

That ancient evil that lurks wild. 

V

So many children did dream there

In ghostly silence they keep. 

Lost little boys and wand’ring girls

Empty cradles robbed of youth fair. 

Innocence lying forever asleep,

Hearing no step upon the stair. 

Now as pitiful shades they warn

All travellers who may pass

To save her from pain greater than

She felt on the day you were born

For your dear mother’s sake, keep to the path!

Or it may be you that she’ll mourn. 

~