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Best Poems From
HERBERT NEHRLICH
(04 October 1943)
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233.
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Happy BD Rachel, Ruthie, Carol, Anne
Four decades
passed
while countries
warred
and men went to the moon.
Yet love,
grown to
the sound of
Autumn leaves
prevailed.
So many died,
through tide
or time,
while
one red rose
sat,
patiently,
a portrait
bare of hope
that forty years
could not erase.
Herbert Nehrlich
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234.
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Happy Birthday Barbara S.
In the North where the sun shines each day
lives young Barbara, quite near the Bay.
She keeps busy with birds
cleaning up tiny turds
and with painting the house without pay.
There are cockatiels, silent and singers,
they will nibble on visitors' fingers.
Though I wouldn't put past
that at least and at last
she's acquired a real humdinger.
How's a white one with silver crest?
And a fluffy but well endowed chest,
on her afternoon walks
she would take one that talks
in cold weather he'd hide in her vest.
It is said former neighbours are sad,
in Karana, the ones slightly mad.
They were fond of long hair
and of greetings to share
but our Barbara is really glad,
I remember her once telling me
of the op called a dicktomy
though I'm doubtful they would
or that anyone could
after all, it would change how you pee!
Well today is her birthday, at last.
She might have a great day and a blast,
started counting the years
and the ones in arrears
there were hundreds it seems in her past.
So we wish her a most pleasant time,
have a gin and a slice of fresh lime.
Many happy returns
and some flowers and ferns
and I hope you are pleased with this rhyme.
Herbert Nehrlich
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235.
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Happy Birthday To My Favourite Pilot
All birds and bees
and things with wings
drift in the breeze
as Nature sings.
A few brave souls
who must be bright
have lofty goals
and claim the right
to leave safe ground
and seek the sky,
thus heaven-bound
they really fly.
Persistent rumour
says that a boy
with skill and humour
and special toy
can be a flyer
just like a bird.
Flies even higher
'til earth is blurred.
And spreads his wings
peers through dark shades
a king of kings,
an ace of spades.
II
On Friday though
his unknown past
comes as a blow,
an icy blast.
The years are catching
him in the act,
grey claws are snatching -
a secret pact!
Contrived in Hell,
to prove him fragile,
a wrinkled shell
still somewhat agile.
The forces fail,
they cannot ground him,
the sound of..'HAIL',
from those around him.
Your muscles shrink
at the six.......o.........,
you're on the brink
to end the show.
Authorities
may think you're lacking,
but no one sees
when you get cracking.
Through vertebral
manipulation,
your integral
co-ordination
keeps up-to-date,
stays sharp and smart.
A Pilot, mate
is no old Fart.
Herbert Nehrlich
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236.
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Happy Birthday, Barbara!
No wonder she doesn't recall
if the day was in Spring or in Fall.
In her head there are words
and a million wild birds
nothing else can be found there at all.
And I say those were truly the days
when the house that's been bought by the gays
was a home that was near
a most friendly and dear
threesome known as our neighbours anglaise.
Happy Birthday to Barbara, yes!
May Ye Gods not demand you confess
that you're seventy-nine
though like good vintage wine
you have wrinkles, well, nevertheless.
It is true that we miss you at times
as we also miss lemons and limes.
It would please us the most
if we could be your host
for your visit. I'll write you more rhymes.
You tell Phil that his bench is still here.
Not to fret or to worry or fear
he can place his thin ass
on the end and the mass
will propel him to land on his ear.
From the land of the jolly old Yanks
where she reigns in the top of the ranks.
We shall strongly insist
to have HER on the list
when you land on old Bribie's sandbanks.
So the deal is we must make a date.
Even though there may BE a long wait.
As with family friends
you can never dispense
with the bonds that the Aussies call Mate.
So to end the prescription for you,
you must follow and finally do
what I tell you just once
(and you know us mean Huns)
eat the cake and the whipping cream too!
Herbert Nehrlich
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