A Bear who is stirring a porridge
Of oats that another Bear’s sown
May do it secure in the knowledge
Another will soon stir his own:
For Goldilocks’ type isn’t picky,
Unwilling to use a strange spoon,
Nor wonders while getting it sticky
Who else may have just, or might soon;
sufficient to each is the sweetness,
untrammelled by shouldn’ts and shoulds,
while breakfast retains its completeness,
and nobody fences the woods.