The polar bar
Had not got far
From where she had unfroze
Before the sun
Came to claim one
Fast favor he so chose:

“‘Twas not your life
That my bright knife
Saved from the starry ice.
But for a whim
You’d still be dim,
Life for life is my price.

My wish is this –
For freedom’s bliss
I’ll have your cub and done.
Give me my ask
Or go be masked
In ice as one sun shunned.”

Bar bit the sun
And ripped the moon
Out of him as the price
He dearly paid,
Mistake he made,
To learn self-sacrifice.

The polar bar
In her ice jar
Has sunshine in her throat,
And her cub lives
And grows and gives
Sun chills in fire coat.