The librarian's bear is an articulate bear.
The librarian's bear is a biophysicist bear.
The librarian's bear is a Christian bear.
The librarian's bear is a dancing bear.
The librarian's bear is an eager bear.
The librarian's bear is a female bear.
The librarian's bear is a Guardian-reading bear.
The librarian's bear is a happy bear.
The librarian's bear is an intellectual bear.
The librarian's bear is a journalistic bear.
The librarian's bear is a knowledgeable bear.
The librarian's bear is a little bear.
The librarian's bear is a massaging bear.
The librarian's bear is a nominally plump bear.
The librarian's bear is an optimistic bear.
The librarian's bear is a popular bear.
The librarian's bear is a questioning bear.
The librarian's bear is a round bear.
The librarian's bear is a solid bear.
The librarian's bear is a trustworthy bear.
The librarian's bear is an uncommon bear.
The librarian's bear is a valuable bear.
The librarian's bear is a web-whizzkid bear.
The librarian's bear is an extrovert bear.
The librarian's bear is a young bear.
The librarian's bear is a zestful bear.
The above lines were written in 1998, the year Clare and I married, and were published in Streetwise 32, autumn 1998, p. 18. I should say that I was editor of Streetwise at that time. I am posting them on the eve of our 15th anniversary.
Strictly speaking, Clare is not much like a bear, and has never been seriously plump. However, when we met in 1982, she was less slight than the woman I had been told she resembled, and 'plump' is a word I like the sound of. I draw on that first plump impression for a continuing licence to say it.
Clare is the first person to see my poems and comment on them, and they sometimes reflect her work in science journalism.
