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Best Poems From
HERBERT NEHRLICH
(04 October 1943)
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217.
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Cinderella And The Dog
Cinderella and her dog
sat at home on the old log.
Sisters had gone to the dance
homely ones did have no chance.
Said the dog 'my Cinderella,
may I be this evening's fella,
we could wash and dress with care
and could make a handsome pair.'
She had raised her bushy brow,
asked the clever dog just how
they would get into the castle
while avoiding a big hassle.
'You are nothing but a mutt,
always scratching your big butt,
full of craziness and fleas
barely reach up to my knees.'
Dog had motives quite ulterior,
said 'I'm not at all inferior,
every dog, on the inside
hides a man beneath his hide.
All it needs is one French Kiss,
which in turn produces bliss,
makes me into your own prince
(turns away and quickly grins) ,
Bravely Cinderella acts,
knowing only half the facts.
Kisses him for one whole hour
to release that magic power.
But no miracle breaks free,
dog lifts leg now, just to pee,
doesn't seem the least surprised,
she has still not realised
that the dog has pulled her leg.
So she now begins to beg:
'I will kiss you one more time,
please come out, man in your prime.
Let me tell you that your breath
is far worse than Father Death.'
So, they kiss again and linger
as the Emperor's own singer
happens to be wand'ring by,
carrying a rhubarb pie.
'Sir', pleads pretty Cinderella,
you, the singer Pico Bella,
can you give us some advice? '
Pico says 'You have nice eyes,
but a mutt will stay a mutt,
into man a mutt cannot
metamorph through simple kissing,
since he has genetics missing.'
Well, she turned now to the critter,
hot, enraged and really bitter,
'How could YOU, a lowly dog
who sleeps in a hollow log
trick me into kissing French
with your halitosis stench? '
'Look', he answered, 'truly sorry,
first, I had to have a story,
all my life I've not been kissed,
but I am a journalist.
Hired by the King's own wife,
never gotten into strife.
Learned that one can grab a chance
if the lady likes to dance.'
Herbert Nehrlich
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218.
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Cuckoo Bird
The Dralles had a cuckoo clock
it could be heard well down the block.
One day the door stayed open longer
and being young the bird felt stronger
than anything around the place.
So he eloped, and just in case
that humans with their crazy habits
came after him like silly rabbits
he armed himself with one big weight
and off he flew, now tempting fate.
The lady of the house came running
and saw the bird with his two cunning
and forest-trained but droopy eyes
for her it was a great surprise,
she called her hubby from the cellar
in came the man, a pudgy feller.
They chased the bird with tennis rackets
and threw a pillow, then two jackets,
yet nothing trapped the small Houdini,
so Hans sat down to a Martini.
The bird, relaxed, but also tired
and, truly, not the least admired
was hovering above the drink
when slowly he began to sink.
The weight which he had for protection
had been a rather poor selection,
as you may know, a cuckoo bird
can fly, but only say one word.
And so it is, when sudden fate
snuffs out a life due to the weight.
Herbert Nehrlich
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219.
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Cuckoo, Cuckoo! (Children)
There lives inside my cuckoo clock
a feisty cuckoo named Tic-toc.
We bought the wooden enchilada
when coming from the autostrada
and entering the Fatherland.
The makers of the clocks reside
in the Black Forest, where a guide
is used for navigation reasons
clocks can be bought in all the seasons.
We chose the biggest on the shelves
(they all are made by German elves) ,
and shipped the thing so it would get
home in one piece, we did not fret.
It took the best part of a day
to hang the clock so it would stay.
The biggest, cleanest strongest screw
was found and used, I'm telling you
it was a job but in the end
a visiting (and nosy) friend
remarked that he had never seen
a clock like it, and he was keen
to also travel overseas
to get himself, likewise a piece.
We went to bed that night content
but when at dawn my lady went
into the kitchen to prepare
the coffee she received a scare.
There on the stove sat a small bird
and mumbled just a single word.
It was a word that we had heard
but never from a little bird.
Heimweh he said, which is the same
as homesickness, which is a shame
because it leads to deep depression
and will require shrinko sessions.
My spouse who tends to jump the gun
since being married to a Hun
went to the cellar just in case,
turned off the gas for the whole place.
She figured that he would not know
too many other ways to go.
And no one has observed a bird
(perhaps it has, somewhere occurred)
to shoot himself or hang by rope
so we continued to have hope.
When I arose and then was told
I felt my bones, (I'm getting old) ,
and really wasn't in the mood
to be delayed, I needed food.
So I resorted to the tactic
that can for birds be prophylactic.
I asked him why he'd left his home
and who allowed him here to roam.
His facial feathers sagged right then
'I realise I'm not Big Ben,
but in the Forest with the elves
all little birds amuse themselves,
but if for you it's a disaster
I say to you, my treasured Master,
you make the laws and all the rules
for even us Black Forest Fools.'
It took six weeks to have him happy,
he grew on us, the little chappie.
The deal between the bird and me
was that he could fly out to see
the world inside our little home
he was allowed to freely roam
but when the time came to announce
the hour he would quickly bounce
back in to his well-furnished place
spruce up his wrinkled cuckoo face
and do what he was born to do
it is to sing cuckoo, cuckoo.
Herbert Nehrlich
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220.
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Death Of A Child
You came into our lives,
I can still heart the patter
of wrinkled feet, so soft.
You could not stay
but needed to say, fleetingly
Farewell, before the end
of a mysterious journey.
And it is certain, without doubt,
that God did sent you,
with love he took you back.
Herbert Nehrlich
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