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Poems By Poet Herbert Nehrlich  2/4/2012 12:48:19 PM
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  Best Poems From
  HERBERT NEHRLICH (04 October 1943)
 
 

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  1.     

A taste

Once you have tasted milk and honey
your buds are in a state of bliss.
Your world has suddenly turned sunny,
your lips remembering the kiss.

The epithelium of these lips
is made up of one kind of cell.
And once they're primed by pleasure sips,
their character comes out its shell.

And like a homing pidgeon will
attempt to fly to destinations
that are familiar and instill
the 'HONEY, I AM HOME' sensation.

It is well known - if cut and pasted,
you only need to click on SEND.
Your efforts to undo are wasted,
the cat is out the bag, my friend.

Just take the wolf. A taste of blood...
(s) he's hooked for life with no regrets.
Wild pigs do wallow in the mud
and tennis balls beseech the net.

So, once we've known
love's heady fragrance,
have tasted it
and let it linger,
we simply cannot act like vagrants:
Give me your hand
with EVERY finger.

Now night has fallen in the tundra,
the silver fur reflects the moon.
A solitary, silent wanderer
keeps pushing on,
it's morning soon.

As trees dream of infinity,
as moths must hurry to create
a chemical affinity.
And when they have it is too late.

Our time is water past the weir.
You'll never taste it after that.
So let us grab it while we're here.
How does one catch a pussycat?
 
Herbert Nehrlich

Read more: cat poems, silver poems, kiss poems, moon poems, friend poems, water poems, dream poems, home poems, world poems, night poems, remember poems, tree poems
   
 

   
   
 

  2.     

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.
 
Herbert Nehrlich
   
 

   
   
 

  3.     

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.
 
Herbert Nehrlich
   
 

   
   
 

  4.     

Lovetalk

I wonder if all lovers would consider
to search their souls down to their greatest depth.
The tastes of sweet and sour, salty, bitter
are with us always, in our hearts they're kept.
The universal language of desire
can self-express and act to give us that
which doesn't smolder, no it burns a real fire.

There is a river, it is wide and very deep.
To cross it is no simple undertaking.
Yet, if the banks are high and slippery and steep,
one may not like the risk one would be taking.
But, unknown fields of promise and of love
unfold themselves on distant shores, so near.
So, ask yourselves and all the gods above:
What will it take to drive away your fear?

The answer seems to be embedded deep inside.
You cross a river - never mind conditions.
There are no rivers deep enough or wide
that could deter us if we only have the vision.
So, once your search has truly ascertained
that you're not fooled by image and convention
your loving powers happily become unchained
to build your love into a new dimension.

How many people go through life without
the happiness that bonding brings.
Poor devils who will never know about
just what it means when suddenly your heart sings.
Love is not possession of another,
love means crossing any river, any ocean.
Love is having feelings like a mother
for your sweet, the ultimate emotion.

Would I die for love, you ask with trepidation,
sacrifice yourself - pay with your life and limb?
Choose unconditionally your own disintegration
leave her behind. Does this sound sad or grim?
We must ask Shakespeare for clari-fi-cation
he was the expert and he knew the facts.
Described all kinds of love, all kinds of sweet
sensations,
and stuffed it all inside his -so romantic- acts.

What true love means, so many have described,
I need not further clutter up the scene.
Suffice it now to say if you have bribed
the lovegood, he will suddenly turn mean.
For true love only is like fresh and driven snow
you recognise it when it is your guest.
Your heart will tell you, when it happens that it's
so
mine did, and I will cherish her and be my best.

To love and cherish with no compromise,
her mind and body and her precious soul
to find myself live in her loving eyes,
to last with her forever is my goal.

For: Left hemispherics
 
Herbert Nehrlich

Read more: river poems, romantic poems, happiness poems, ocean poems, snow poems, sad poems, mother poems, fire poems, fear poems, love poems, people poems
   
 
 

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Poems By Poet Herbert Nehrlich