Came the Rabbi to the Abbey, met the Abt,
said Abdubai you disturbed me so I snapped.
Though the Rabbi wore a habit he was not
spending time inside the Abbey on the pot.
Often monks smoked funny grasses and they brewed
making life so much more pleasant, less subdued.
It's a funny and exotic life indeed,
even holy men are partial to the weed.

Herbert Nehrlich

User Rating:

10.0 /10
(1 votes)

E-mail this poem to e friend

• Send this poem as eCard

• Add this poem to MyPoemList

• Print friendly version

Comments about this poem (Musings by Herbert Nehrlich)

more comments >>

Click here to write your comments about this poem (Musings by Herbert Nehrlich)

Iohannes Silvaticus (7/3/2008 7:19:00 AM)
Pot rocks. Hahaha 10!

People who read Herbert Nehrlich also read:

Classic poets in PoemHunter.Com:

The complete list >>

Lyrics

The complete list >>

Search in the World Poetry Database =>

Search:

in:

tips

(c) Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge.. About Us | Copyright notice | Privacy statement | Help
12/2/2008 12:29:46 PM. You Are Here: Musings by Herbert Nehrlich