Herbert Nehrlich (04 October 1943 / Germany)
A Dire Emergency
It was a dire emergency,
something no frog appreciates.
A stork, his home a fancy nest
on top of the red-tiled roof,
had stabbed his hungry beak
into the gutter for a bit of green.
Frantically, since there was work to do
a veritable mountainrange of leaves
and unmentionable things
were stuck inside the downpipe
at the junction.
It was the hardest ever job he'd done,
the largest meal that could be eaten
and the happiest of all the days
a frog could even visualize.
Comments about this poem (A Dire Emergency by Herbert Nehrlich )
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley