Well Deserved, Tara Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

An ipod for Tara is the least they can do
but I'm sorry that no one would give me a clue.
Did she win it in England or the world as a stage
was her poem a lovesong or expression of rage?

There are few who send tingles across oceans of foam
from their gray and depressing small chambers at home.
But this girl is a treasure that has stayed in the shade
to watch regiments march until all prayers fade.

I do wish I could be that tall angel who would
serve and always protect her the best that I could.
I would hover and watch there at ten thousand feet
and my thoughts would be dreaming that some day we'll meet.

Now, I hope you don't get here an impression that's wrong
it's poetic in nature, like a nightingale's song.
As my mentor old Johann, used to ponti-fi-cate
do not keep in your praise, it will soon be too late.