The Nug King: A Sonnet

O Nug King, perched atop thy royal throne, Thy subjects chirp and scamper ‘round thy feet. Within the darksome tunnels of this stone The sight of thy domain is passing sweet. O Nug, thy skin is wrinkled pink and bare; To some, thy kin are pet or prey or beast. Yet though thou hast no sharpened teeth, nor hair, Thou rulest all the nugs, from great to least. O King, with diadem so proudly crowned,…