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Daniel Oct 2019
The din of winter is a window away
I've come here to stay at my Grandmother's
The bedroom aglow in yellows and reds
The lamp by the bed

Beckoned by hands and a magical timbre
I'm starting towards her in answer,
recalling her manner
Her habits preserved as in amber

Sat by her side and embracing her then
I'm suddenly a child again,
her eighty-two years to my ten
Gemma Davies Oct 2018
The magic of winter, is all around.
The magic of winter, every sight and sound.
Snowflakes and snowmen, getting cosy in bed.
Soft scarves and mittens, bobble hat on your head.
Red cheeks and noses, warm homes all around.
The magic of winter, every sight and sound.

Happy Winter.
My poem was lovingly made into a 'Me to You Bear' video:
Isaac Aug 2018
What is homier than your bedroom?
Having God hold your hand.
What is cosier than your blankets?
God's promise forever to stand.
What is more intimate than your pillow?
God's thoughts of love for you.
What is more snug than your pajamas?
God's grace carrying you through.
Written 21 August 2018
LadyM Jul 2018
Another night-
I'm so excited!
I lay in my bed
Feeling delighted

Yellow lights aflame
On the silent streets,
I'm peacefully covered
In my warm bed sheets

My eyes start to shut
And my head is falling low
Oh, how I love
My soft, white pillow

I have fairy lights
That light up the night,
My room is so cosy,
What a wonderful sight!

Oh, how I love
When bedtime arrives,
A time set to dream
And rest tired eyes.
After a long day, a night full of dreams in warm bed sheets is all I need
should any women
try to form
a cosy partnership with him
she'll put a cleaving wedge
in between them
it is quite plain
that she won't tolerate
that kind of thing
going on
apparently she's got to be
the only paradise bird
he'll ever see
a few of his prospective
consorts were  told
to scram
and not to be tempting
with their eyelash
batting scams
a casual observer
might well say
she's pretty **** good
at vamoosing
the rivals
EmpressMi Oct 2017
Talking until dawn,
But no abnormal atmosphere.
Revealing the secrets;
There's a sudden high tempreture.
It becomes midnight,
We think 'too early'.
It becomes cold.
We soon get cosy
Under the blankets filled with warmth,
As we are too shy for a midnight call.
Sleep comes to us so we say goodnight
While longing for one's cherished sight.
All Rights Reserved. ©
Scarlet Keiller Jan 2016
What am I without this
toxic insanity that twists
my every move? Nothing,
that's what I am, what
I would be without me.

Maybe feeling normal would
wash this burning passion
for difference, which I love so
dearly, away. *If that is the case,
I will be abnormal any day.
~~ Sanity is a cosy lie. ~~
My husbands video player lay on the shelve for years.
It was a  ******* it has a little mini screen.
The trouble was the lead broke
And no more Saturday movies.
Until oneday I was so  persistent
That I found a adapter
Bought it from a shop
Now we are pleased to announce cinema time
ottaross Dec 2014
Wrapped in a blanket against the cold night
Like a paper-wasps' nest
in a black-and-white birch tree
dusted with snow;
Like the wick of a hundred-times-dipped beeswax candle,
awaiting the flame.
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