"I've accessed air springs and adjustables..." My Big Brass Bed Back Home: A Nonsense Alphabet in Rhyme

     I’ve accessed 
air springs 'n' adjustables, berths, 
bunk beds, box springs, too;
     blacked out in 
bassinets, chaise longues, cots, cradles, 
Chesterfields (a few).
     I’ve dozed on 
davenports, divans, duvets, on 
daybeds cased in chrome.
     And yet the 
best I’ve ever slept in was that 
big brass bed back home. 

     I’ve taken 
ease on ebeds, eastern kings, fulls, 
futons, four four posters;
     gouched on 
gurneys, The Great Bed of Ware (who 
claims they’ve done be boasters);
     hung in 
hot racks, hammocks, hideaways – on 
hassocks filled with foam.
     And yet the 
best I’ve ever slept in was that 
big brass bed back home.  

     I’ve hibed in 
infant cribs, inflatables (I 
jumped, once, on a junior);
     knelt on 
kinderbeds, kips, Kang bed-stoves (than 
which no beds be loonier).
     Late I’ve 
lounged on lecti geniales 
(once the rage in Rome).
     And yet the 
best I’ve ever slept in was that 
big brass bed back home. 

     I’ve made my 
Murphys, mooned on manjaas, napped in 
nests 'n' narcolits;
     Pooped out 
on orthopeds 'n' ottomans…and 
pallets (they’re the pits!).
     I’ve plopped on 
platforms, palanquins 'n' pillows 
in the Astrodome.
     And yet the 
best I’ve ever slept in was that 
big brass bed back home.

     Quiesced on 
queens (with quilts), on roll-aways, on 
retros, rope-rung'd racks;
     sawn wood on 
sofas, stretched on Sertas, Sealys…
snoozed in sleeping sacks;
     turned in on 
Therma-Rests, twins, upper berths, up-
holst’r’ds stuff'd with brome!
     And yet the 
best I’ve ever slept in was that 
big brass bed back home.  

     I’ve valued 
Vi-Springs 'n' vibrating beds (I 
melt ‘neath Magic Fingers);
     waked on 
water beds 'n' Weevacs (déjà 
vu of two still lingers).
     X, Y, 
Z? In none have time I done, though
'round the globe I’ve roamed.
     And yet the 
best I’ve ever slept in was that
big brass bed back home.