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Best Poems From
HERBERT NEHRLICH
(04 October 1943)
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3077.
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Yolanda Remembered
When I wrote about
the new song,
my thoughts had drifted
to my oldest friend,
my downy-feathered softie,
Yolanda, who has been
in God's earth for years,
right near the barn,
where hubby rests as well,
and when I check, at night
and make my rounds
to see that all my critters
are safe in their straw beds,
I pause, because I hear,
each night, the chatter
of two souls so long departed,
and, hurrying inside
I feel my heart, it pounds
and seems too heavy for my chest
no doubt it needs to be,
to generate this warmth
that floods, like a deluge
throughout my hairy chest.
Oh yes, Yolanda, precious goose,
we never picked a name for him!
There was no time,
and we must learn
to be prepared
as there may come a day
when you, my love are called,
though I am praying every day
that you be given by the gods
a minute just to kiss my lips good-bye.
Herbert Nehrlich
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3078.
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Yolinda's Depression
Yolinda often was depressed
she then stayed home, inside her nest.
To help her illness she used gin
it quickly did restore her grin
but alcohol's welcome effect
was not expected to correct
her melancholy disposition
thus it required repetition.
She managed thus for many years
depression and some other fears.
And on her deathbed she required
the liquid she so much admired.
It helped, this time she drank a quart
before she left for God's resort.
Herbert Nehrlich
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3079.
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Yorkshire
The terrier loved perverted fun,
knew lousy weather, little sun.
His stubby legs could barely run
so he made up the game of 'one'.
For yonks he spent his lonely nights
on his computer, using bytes.
Soon, Carpal Tunnel got his wrists
thus grew the pile of unmarked lists
of names of poets he could hate
and from the shadows he would rate.
He did not know that his malaise
could have been cured in simple ways.
A vitamin, it's called B-Six
is for the tunnel a great fix,
as for the terrier's misery,
he lacked the vitamin called D.
Which can be taken through the hide,
but, sunshine's lacking countrywide.
Thus, things were looking rather bleak,
his brain, quite tiny, sprang a leak.
And no more 'Ones' were ever seen
on Poemhunter's happy scene.
Herbert Nehrlich
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3080.
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YOU
The very word may be too much,
one knows one's own identity
to do what seems appropriate
and somewhat lucrative, of course.
Will you tell me, my childhood friend
just who I am, and then you could,
with tears of laughter in your eyes,
reveal the innermost and purple secrets
of your ageing heart. Yes it is me!
I do not care but hug the floor with trepidation,
you will be fine, it is the thought that makes me wild,
no matter what I shall be there, in all that's free,
I would forever hold you tight my precious child.
Herbert Nehrlich
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