Herbert Nehrlich Poems

There once was a blueberry pie,
it would make many little kids cry.
But it wasn't the fruit
that was found in dispute
...

Updrafts are currents of warm air that rise,
released by devils on request from friendly gods,
selective they will help all moths and flies
with humans though, the picture is quite odd.
...

Joe is no plumber,
nor a flutist or drummer.
'Twas a clever plan.
...

After drinking a bottle of wine
while conversing with Englebert Klein,
Miss Fellaziobelle slurred
a most out of place word
...

He was a stickler,
and spent his day in search of
her little tickler.
...

It came to me
from
the silent shadows,
this word
...

There ain't nuthin' more worse
than bad English 'n grammar,
it's when fools treat good verse
with a saber-toothed hammer.
...

Lacking genetics, empty her head,
age bringing changes without any grace,
dinner for one and alone in her bed
lifting the flabbies, also the face.
...

Advent, Advent, es brennt ein Licht
im Bettchen schlaeft der kleine Wicht.
Der Weihnachtsmann kommt kurz vorbei
nach Mitternacht, so gegen zwei.
...

To the children, I note, with alarm
that this year we will miss all his charm.
Seems that Santa is ill
and this Christmas he will
...