Long Cozied Poems
Long Cozied Poems. Below are the most popular long Cozied by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cozied poems by poem length and keyword.
Sit-upons that we wove together.
The troop activity. How many spots
will remember me?
The wicker basket and picnic blanket
woven into the amphitheatre. We,
my hubby and I,
cozied up, listened to Amy Grant.
My towel, with the Caribbean islands,
sinking in the warm sand, waiting
for my salt-sea body to rest.
My familiar easy chair,
the grandkids are always
welcome to share.
The pews that retain glory and praise
on Sundays and Wednesdays.
The split-level stairs,
carpeted teal,
where I oft sit and watch
somersaults
and converse with a houseful.
There are the horses,
that lent their backs,
brought me to greater heights -
walked me on the Cozumel beach,
‘round Yukon’s emerald lake,
and one that wanted to dive off a cliff,
“whoa…no!” I took control.
On my childhood bed,
so close to my sister-cousin.
We laughed and shared -
now it's only in my memory.
The yellow bus, -
my hopes and dreams were sown
within its polyester seats.
So many places where I sat,
brimming above or below the surface.
So many places we stay and go.
We squat, recline, attack.
Met this gal from Ding Dong, Texas
Had warts all over her bum
I know because she showed me them
I got up and started to run
Her six foot twelve hulk of a brother
Said, "Boy! Best ya sits y'self down!"
I knew I should listen to brother Luke
The meanest damn dude in town!
So Anitabath, his ding-a-ling sister
Cozied up and quietly whispered
"How's if we have some fun in the hay?"
I quivered at having to kiss her!
I said okay as this ding-a-ling stripped
I cringed at her wart covered bum
Saw a chance and tried to scurry away
But Luke was on guard with a gun!
"Just where d'ya think yer goin', sonny?"
As he blocked my escape with his brawn
Just then I spotted a tiny opening
Took off like a skitterish young fawn!
I heard the ominous crack of his rifle
Felt around but could feel no pain
Got into my pick-up and took off like a shot
Never gone near Ding Dong again!
There's definitely a moral in this sad little tale
Don't hang out in a bar in Ding Dong
Less you're ready for some Texas hospitality
Say, "So long, sayonara, I'm gone"!
© Jack Ellison 2012
I’ve made a few mistakes in my life. I can say that with aplomb
I wore a blue brocade tux with a top hat and cane to my junior/senior prom.
I once let a beautician curl my hair...now that was really astute!
I thought a curly head of hair would do wonders for my new blue leisure suit.
She said a perm would make my baldness seem fuller and my love life it would prolong.
When it was over it took but one look in the mirror to know that she was wrong.
My hair looked like a rebellious Brillo pad and I’m not being indiscreet
when I say the only female attracted to me was a French Poodle down the street!
In college while out drinking with friends I pretty much sealed my fate
when I cozied up to a pretty cheerleader and asked her for a date.
Was it the alcohol or was it love that made me forget I’d have to contend
With her boyfriend…sitting next to her…
was he the quarterback or a tight end?
I don’t remember, but I know my distilled confidence made me feel bold and brave and brash.
What happened next is a bit of a blur...
I woke up face down in the trash.
The point here is we all make mistakes
they await us around every turn.
We shouldn’t be afraid to make them
because from them we’ve so much to learn.
Without mistakes we wouldn’t have the chocolate chip cookies so many of us crave.
The slinky would have never been invented...
no post it notes or microwaves.
There would be no penicillin,
no fireworks would ever be seen.
Without mistakes we’d see a straight tower in Pisa
and miss that beautiful lean.
We will try and fail many times in our life,
sometimes we’ll crash...
sometimes we’ll fly
but the biggest mistake we will ever make...
is when we fail to even try.
True I didn’t get a date with the cheerleader
but I still remember to this day
Her smile and that wink she gave me
as her huge boyfriend dragged me away.
I remember that moment with fondness...
I know as a couple we would have been cute.
She, the beautiful cheerleader,
and me in my blue leisure suit.
the closet door slightly ajar
she had no idea he was in there
her cat knew but was not concerned
not fearful at all
understanding nothing
about his grandiose ideas about
mayhem, death and destruction
the feline had
no understanding that he was there
for an evil purpose.
He was determined to not
allow either the cat or her owner
to see the morning light.
the cat cozied up to her mistress,
thinking they were just lying down
for the night like they did every night.
A sigh escaped her, and she began
pawing her mistress's tummy,
settling down easily
without any fear
at all.
“Cats teach us how to enjoy life. They savor every moment, from
the warm sun on their backs to the joy of a well-played pounce.”
– Anonymous
Snow stopped rubbing against my leg to get attention
when he became curious about Christmas tree lights
tangled all over the floor to the point of contention.
I saw him begin nibbling the bulbs, taking little bites,
so I shooed him away in a moment of apprehension,
afraid that he might break one. Oh, the hypertension!
That lasted all of thirty seconds, and Snow was back,
crouched in hunt mode, his eyes locked on a string.
I saw him tense, creeping closer, ready for the attack.
He chattered and launched himself like a coiled spring,
landing in strings and ran as if he was on a racetrack.
I reached for my camera. It was moment for my Kodak!
Instead of being frightened, he was perfectly content
to walk around, wrapped in lights from head to toe,
so, I let him prance like that for a while without dissent.
But when I tried to take them off, I got a hiss from Snow
letting me know that giving them up was not his intent.
It became a problem that I had to cleverly circumvent.
I thought that turning on the lights I'd already strung
might change his mind and fill Snow with a bit of fright
so, I busied myself with ornaments and stockings hung,
then found him cozied up beneath the tree. What a sight!
He was licking each brightly colored globe with his tongue.
That string still tightly wound around him, they were flung.
I didn't have the heart to take away his brand new toy.
While soothing him with my voice, I plugged him in,
standing by in case he was scared, but not my lil' boy.
Here's the photo and I swear, Snow is wearing a grin.
He's asleep before the hearth, on a pillow of corduroy.
A memory to treasure on this Christmas filled with joy.
When I placed a golden star atop my Christmas tree
I heard the faint mewing from beside the fireplace.
Snow's big blue eyes were open wide as if in plea.
I just couldn't stand the sad look upon my kitty's face
and put a star on his head, then got a holder for a battery
so his lights could move with him. Now, he's purring at me.
Rubbing boys shoulders with sunburn oil. The sun smiles at the pain, the brush of fingers against raw flesh. But like a war wound, those boys be proud. Offer them a salve and they scoff, don’t need that stuff. Head back to the beach. Nudge them with a board and a wave, and they take off, up to their knees, casting themselves into the sea. Cheeks and hairlines have enemies, but the boys will wait for the tan that turns them brown, puffed up, back to tell the tales to jealous schoolmates.
They won’t speak of palm trees, nor the hot sand; perhaps they will not even remember what to say, until a prompt. Perhaps they won’t shut up about the knock down, drag out fights with the ebb and flow of riptides.
They might not remember the food that filled their empty bellies, but they enjoyed each bite of burgers at Ford’s Garage in the oldest city in America. I heard from an eyewitness that it has ghosts, the city, not this particular haunt.
Packed like fish, we headed to Florida, having to use one of the back seats for the overflow of things. My oldest grandson had to endure his seat, likened to a ball turret gunner. But this pubescent heartbreaker, though cramped, loved the isolation.
Speed traps, speedy biker, ear-splitting emergency vehicles, pelicans;
and a swift breeze upon a chilly-sunburn covered up with a soft blanket and cozied up to grandma (of course this is the nine year old).
Trip back as the GPS constantly pushed us farther from home, not in miles but in minutes and hours. But the miles moved quicker than a remembered icestorm where I couldn’t get home (only 10 minutes away), so like all long travel, the kids got their first taste, and survived.
So much to say, but signing off…