Best Snug As A Bug In A Rug Poems
Snuggle in
as snug as a bug in a rug
Be it a struggle
Be your limbs supple
Be you a married couple
or not ~ Snuggle in
It starts with a little yawn,
then a stretch, both fore and aft.
Next the blankets start to move,
I just have to laugh.
She shuffles up from the bottom,
of the bed, where warm and snug,
she had slept the whole night through,
as snug as a bug in a rug.
But, comes the tock of six a.m.
her internal clock goes "Bong".
A morning ritual now begins,
softly, with a little yawn.
Her nose peeks out from beneath,
the rest of her soon follows.
Her head she rubs into my neck,
as I try to hide in the pillow.
It is no use, I'm now wide awake,
I climb out, into the world where I belong.
Just before she scrambles back beneath,
she gives out a little yawn.
For the contest; What makes you wake up each and every day
Sponsored by Ed Ebbs
This outlier locked up (snug as a bug in a rug) within the keystone state
extremely remote from ground zero of Biblical deluge, he humbly didst rate
the pride and prejudice (questionable sense and sensibility)
of indiscriminate resultant landfall upon this oblate
spheroid i.e. namely planet unfit ness Earth, where global affect
sans billions of people answered call of the wild
viz zit ting suitable companion mate
which collective souls (entrapped within their own asylum) of late
contributed to tipping point, where category 5 hurricanes
frequently nada so great
for folks chose to live along the path of this
and subsequent Gaia's doomsday fate
an object lesson scientists equate with
considerable proof over population fall out,
now yielding liquid Frankenstein golem –
an atrocious, ferocious, malicious date
thus now powerless at the figurative hands of
nefarious, odious, pernicious, rapacious beastie boy we
(meaning persons, who supposedly advanced progress of civilization)
MUST confront global warming resultant
what generations of *****Sapiens didst create
asper this thesis, I DO NOT berate others who disagree – cuz,
whom iz this bard butta varmint, for whom the tolling bell doth await.
The sweetest time
I get to spend
All day through
Is at the end
Goodnight time
Is on its way
Grab a book
In bed we'll lay
Our favorite book
"The Giving Tree"
Soon enough
You'll be asleep
Close your eyes
"Snug as a bug in a rug"
It's time to sleep
A goodnight kiss, a goodnight hug
I’m behind her eyes throughout the night,
I’m playing with her dream.
She doesn’t realise it’s me that knows,
Shadows aren’t as they seem.
I make her feel comfort, safe and secure,
As snug as a bug in a rug.
She doesn’t realise my smoke’s more than toxic,
A dreamy sort of drug.
With me in her mind she’s protected, guarded,
From everything that is real.
She thinks this is how sleep’s meant to be,
A sleepy slaughtered kind of surreal.
I’m the genuine authentic nightmare man,
Stealing dreams from every night.
I’m the guy that makes her sleep with nothing,
Harvesting her dreams by candlelight.
Well I fancy her, I fancy you, fancy that and it sure feels good, the way you touch my face, the way you kiss my lips and your body close to mine, candle light and fire light intensifying the mood, ecstasy under a red velvet blanket, under me, over you whoa this is wild even to this wild heart of mine well now I fancy this, that and you oooh yeah and that feels so good...
Although the rain outside continues to fall and this early February wind is subzero I am as snug as a bug in a rug oh what a valentines night to remember, passion like I've never known before, heart to heart and skin on skin and then for whatever reason that remains therefore and again and again and even then once more oh what a feeling on the bed, in the floor all over VELVETINE VALOUR...
It's coming to the point morning will find us closer together, falling in love with each other, a burning desire like a fire from one lover to another, the way you touch my face, the way you kiss my lips and your body next to mine oh this is wild now even to this wild, wild heart of mine, what a valentines night to remember, romantic and erotic beyond anything you could compare it to oh now and I fancy her, I fancy you and I fancy that too, whoa and it sure feels so damn good, and even then once more, on the bed, in the floor oh what a feeling, oh what a feeling all over VELVETINE VALOUR!
an average of 2,830 cubic meters
per second of rich silt
forms an alluvial plain
spreads outward in a fan shape
from sedimentary deposit whereby
ancient Egyptian civilizations got built
adorning arid topography invaluable
like aorta pumping blood at the nape
of the neck, yet analogous context
engendered engineering feats without guilt
whereby artisans, craftsmen,
early geographers illustrated in frieze and drape
frozen timeless statuary exhibiting
phenomenal abilities to the hilt
associated from mainspring within
fertile crescent swollen like a plump grape
which longest river often overflows
banks whereby coveted materiel gets spilt
feeding the rift valley and allowing,
enabling and providing peoples to dominate
flooding the history of mankind
with accomplishments that marvel even today
epitomized by innovations -
alphabets, wheelwrights, pyramids, etc lives did create
baffling historians how each mortise and tenon
snug as a bug in a rug mortise and tenon block
construed edifices persons did intricately lay
perfect with near geometric exactitude
ranks as wonder of webbed wide world great
faint hints of daily trials and tribulations
recorded for posterity in clay
or shards of broken pottery pieced togethe
coupling revelations a mosaic plate
which functional artifacts
provided dietary staples
to pagan spirits populace did pray.
His black sheep
Dark skinned, a chubby with brown eyes
Hair so fluffy, as he wished it was blonde.
Ugly to his eyes, even more pigchunky
That even blows off my confidence
I tried acting bubbly but her pain crushed my spirit
I've been boiling an ocean,
His critics as he keeps raising
Leaving me in the cold
His only daughter I am,
I don't even understand how He throws me with a hatred blanket
Managing to call me stupid in every silly mistakes I make
And yet fail to recognize every good thing I make
My existence he makes me question
Literally he brings gloom to my room,
But i try to bloom,
For her sake yes
Course she is the rose in my garden
That she born me in her womb, does not pass her thought
Unlike "he" whom I even feel like addressing as a sperm donor
Course a father figure he failed in me
I am my mother's favorite child and yet my father's worst daughter
With reasons I don't know
Only if I wasn't excelling at school perhaps,
But, I am fortunately an A student
And Among my peers I'm the brightest,
And yes, I'm not an excellent athlete but I do best.
Only if I deliver rotten potatoes at him perhaps,
But I only clothe my words and actions with honor
Hence, I'm still trying to wrap my head around the hatred,
Course I see myself as a blessing,
And it hurts how he treats me as a sin
It is all depressing and now I'm confessing
I'm up a creek without a paddle
This is all toxic, and my mind is still processing
How He constantly scold me for no reasons
At all it makes no sense to me
How he keeps playing snug as a bug in a rug
Day after day, Season after season
It seems he never want to bury the hatchet
Im getting a blow off my steam
And I keep wishing this was all a dream
This is my naked pain
And I feel suffocated
Now show me yours,
Show me your naked pain
Oh I wish I could give out a hug,
To all those around me I love,
See FaceTime is fine, for a moment in time,
But it really just isn’t enough!
Oh I wish I could give out a hug,
I really have missed them so much,
But we mustn’t be fools, keep the 2 metre rule.
And learn other ways to show love!
Oh I wish I could give out a hug,
‘Till I’m snug as a bug in a rug,
But I’ll stick with the screen, till the powers that be,
Say the ‘R number’ stays under 1!
Oh I wish I could give out a hug,
They’re a wonderful gift from above,
We avoid those we see, when we walk down the street,
It’s so sad what the world has become.
Oh I wish I could give out a hug,
But I’ll wait till the death of this bug,
And for now I’ll resist, give an air hug and kiss,
Even though on my heart strings it tugs!
Oh I wish I could give out a hug,
But I won’t be despondent because-
The hug will come back, there’s no doubt about that,
And I’m first in the line when it does!
18.08.2020
You can see a performance of this poem here: https://youtu.be/db1Z3MdNPO4
Nothing boot toe till rot and duff feet...
Attempting nightly ritual
nsync with sole and
instep of beat
January second 21:08
two thousand twenty
footwear equipped with
custom made cleat
proudly standing tall
(think) as an elite
able, eager, and ready
to sprint skyhigh fleet
ting into netherlands
(towering well over
other wiry antennae thin contestants,
hence exception to
maximum height waved
outrageous illegitimate forfeit
chore blithely Atlas shrugged off),
whereby said marathoner Olympian
amidst godly pantheon did greet,
competitors crouched tigerlike
ironically melting starter blocks
deftly gunning generating barreling heat
fast as greased lightning
Achilles catapulted courtesy blur,
zee mist tree (oak kay)
man, i.e. helpmeet,
he roundly squared off
accompanied by his wifely entreat.
Thus situated, positioned, and finagled
husbandry duty obliging the misses,
no matter she kick started
(think thrashing outsize overgrown toddler)
childish task deemed
markedly cockameemie design,
subsequently these little feet (mine)
stood stolid upon bedroom floor
she did man date me,
I supplicated, necessitated,
implored, and decried divine
intercession, cuz thee mademoiselle
did authoritatively assign,
thee mister getting mine
handy dandy grip upon her supine
corpulent physique
outstretched leaden legs
awaiting (Abby) salute perfect sign
to commence powerfully
prying and pulling
first straight then nine
tee degrees practically prostrating self
footloose and eventually
detaching fancy free
thunder thighs, what strong
amazing anatomical design
nearly defying might
of super Matt nein
bird brainer heron,
an ill eagle cro-magnon scheme
to untie clodhoppers
snug as a bug in a rug,
whence laces got knotted
freaking me out clearly
out this world,
wide webbed formerly
Gordian tangled skein.
Nothing boot toe till rot and duff feet...
concerning yours truly
poor righteous leftist sole.
Great way to begin the new year
mine little feet about size nine wear
sneakers acquired At Ian's Boots
not for profit business
origin of said enterprise
brings more'n one tear.
Attempting nightly ritual
nsync with sole and
instep of beat
January second 11:33
two thousand twenty two
footwear equipped with
custom made cleat
proudly standing tall
(think) as an elite
able, eager, and ready
to sprint skyhigh fleet
ting into netherlands
(towering well over
other wiry contestants,
hence exception to
maximum height waved
outrageous illegitimate forfeit
chore blithely Atlas shrugged off),
the fountain head
whereby marathoner Olympian
amidst godly pantheon did greet,
then melted starter blocks
competitors crouched tigerlike
deftly gunning generating barreling heat
fast as greased lightning
Achilles catapulted courtesy blur,
zee mister (oak kay)
tree - man, i.e. helpmeet,
he roundly squared off
accompanied by his wifely entreat
for sakes Pete.
Thus situated, positioned, and finagled
husbandry duty obliging the misses,
no matter she kick started
(think thrashing outsize toddler)
childish task deemed
markedly cockameemie design,
subsequently these little feet (mine)
stood stolid upon bedroom floor
she did man date me,
supplicating, necessitating,
imploring, and decrying divine
intercession, cuz thee mademoiselle
did authoritatively assign,
thee mister getting mine
handy dandy grip upon her supine
corpulent physique
outstretched leaden legs
awaiting (the missus)
salute perfect sign
to commence powerfully
prying and pulling
first straight then nine
tee degrees practically pulling
footloose and eventually
detaching fancy free
thunder thighs, what strong
amazing anatomical design
nearly defying might
of super rich a$$ a nein
bird brainer heron
an ill eagle cro-magnon scheme
to untie clodhoppers
snug as a bug in a rug,
whence laces unknotted free
and clear whirled,
wide webbed formerly tangled skein
fo shoe more intolerable
than swallowing quinine.
It’s funny what went through my mind…the joy….the wonder….the pride
when I looked into the eyes of my grandson,
as he looked into the eyes of his bride.
As I watched this wonderful young man…I found it difficult to understand….
where all the time has gone since I could pick him up…
and carry him with one hand?
Since I took him for walks in his stroller….
and pointed out all the things there were to see.
When did this little boy I use to cradle…
become taller and wiser than me?
I still see that same smile…that same eagerness…
that same innocence and joy
as I saw in him every time I picked him up when he was a little boy.
But gone are the days I could pick him up…
or tuck him into bed snug as a bug in a rug
Those times I would carry him around the house when he visited
have been replaced with a ‘Hi PopPop” and a hug.
Oh I am not complaining…everything is great…it’s wonderful…it’s good.
Life has moved on as it is meant to move on…as it always should.
But as I stood there watching Damien marry the love of his life….
when I heard the wedding bell chime….
I thought back and wondered how great it would be
If I could pick him up with one hand
and carry him…
one more time.