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My cousin came
but once a year,
to visit and to sleep in
'twas all the same
I had my ear
and eyes, for certain, weepin',
the moon would play
upon her skin
a firework of sorts,
it's only really today
that I resort to sports,
it's full of sin
and smells so sweet
I hug her lovely legs,
in waking say, if we should meet
I'll make you scrambled eggs.
But would you be,
so very kind
and wear your nighty, dear
let both the twins hang high and free
and pamper my left ear.
My right will stand
and greet the sky
while lips caress your breast,
the past, its own medieval brand
puts paid to the great lie.
So put to rest upon my chest
your head, it's really mine.
And be assured, and even blessed
these lies are drowned in wine.
Herbert Nehrlich
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