Soccer

I always have liked soccer.
Such a rough game.
Such skills required.
And popular.
Hometown watching,
on Sunday morning.
When one day,
I found that I needed
to withdraw.
It was the honourable
thing to do.

poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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Not My Valentine

Please can I be your Valentine
I'm just a little nut.
I'll spoil you with Italian wine
I'll sing outside your hut.
You say you have your Valentine
and that you love me, but
the other one brought better wine:
Your Valentine I'm not.

poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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Gay Paris

Too much Pernod, way too much booze,
dancing in Gay Paris, Adidas shoes.
Filling our glowing cheeks
with le vin rouge
running and laughing in.....
What a deluge!
Dancing cancan Monsieur
shirts elevé,
powder for two, le deux,
doucement, bébé!

poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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Gasping

You can howl
you can wish
you can gasp like a fish,
as most oldsters would show
you how little things grow.
And your ticker?
We snicker
do you get PVC's?
When the ceiling lights flicker
and you're busting to pee
it is you who departs
to a concert of farts.

poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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The King's Summons

May I apply to you my damsel just this once?
I am Teutonicus king of the fearsome Huns.
We have installed a box for letters near the moat
may I be first to send you flowers and my vote
a written narrative would please me, do expand
I shall reply if you desire, on demand.

poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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A Very Happy Birthday For Jerry Hughes - Poet Extraordinaire

He's nothing like Hannibal
but so human an animal.
His poetry shows
that the blood within flows
with a steady noblesse,
not designed to impress
but a man of the word,
neither warrior nor nerd.

The reason this is early is
the old Alzheimer and a very early day tomorrow.

poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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No Limerick?

A poem presenting with rhyme
and which follows a rhythm in time
need not be what we call
a true Limerick at all
like a lemon, the cousin of lime.

Yet a limerick a lemon can be,
you could use a small slice for your tea.
Do not use it in fudge
and respect that the judge
is the man with no writing degree.

poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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Read-It, Read-It, Read-It.....

Said the good-natured mouse
who was sharing a house
which was really a log
with a goose-shit-green frog:
You keep bringing me books
about farming and chooks
it is thoughtful of you
if only you knew
that I plum don't recall
what to do with them all.
Take this book, do I need it? '
Frog answered 'read-it'.

poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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For Declan

There once was a fellow named D.
he had misunderstood little me.
Though his poems ain't bad
and he is a good lad
so let pax for the two of us be.

So this limerick was writ just to say
that in life it is better to play
than to act like two farts
who would hurl poisoned darts
let me know if it's Aye or Nay.

poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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Frog In The Log

There once was a handsome green frog
who resided inside an old log.
He had cut two small vents
in the log for defense
but the stork used, as cover, the fog.

And he swallowed the frog in the buff
though just one frog was never enough
for a frog in a log
who can't see in the fog
daily life can be utterly tough.

poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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