In Bramblewood where clovers grow,
And wispy, gentle breezes blow,
There lives a sleuth of bears by three,
With hats and hearts and curiosity.

They wander softly through the glade,
Where quiet woodland paths are laid,
A missing ribbon, button, ring—
No mystery is too small a thing.

With careful paws and steady sight,
They follow clues from morn till night,
Through rustling leaves and winding trails,
They piece together hidden tales.

The smallest bear in scarf of blue
Says, “Every puzzle leaves a clue.”
His little friend, so bright and kind,
Says, “We will search until we find.”

The stoutest bear, both calm and wise,
Sees truth in tracks and subtle signs,
“For every case we wander through,
A faithful heart will guide us true.”

So if you lose what you hold dear,
Or find your path no longer clear,
Just whisper softly through the trees—
The Sleuth Bears come upon your pleas.