Happy Birthday, Abram! Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

In a snowy little hamlet lived a boy with a short name
he was sent to the one room school in the town.
All the letters and the numbers did at first look much the same
and the boy was often wearing a small frown.
But his mind had been well-nourished and was full of great ideas,
soon the teachers noticed something 'round the lad,
idle thoughts of how things worked and shunning smoke and hazy mirrors
he would often wonder if the world was mad.

Many years have passed and honours fluttered in through troubled skies
but large gaggles of opponents hung around,
thus for decades they were jealous and would tell those factoid lies
and when challenged they would quickly go to ground.
Yet the world does know its master in the field of Human Health
and the families of all as well as 'them'
are aware that he would putter with the science, not the wealth
as he looked at situations from the stem.

I have never in my travels met another noble man
who would fascinate so simply with his mind
and with quiet confidence he would just nod and say 'I can'
with a smile that told the world that he was kind.

Well, last night I had a dream that woke me up at 3 o-five
and the recall was according to B-six
and the gods had told me then that our man would be alive
as the gods had seen his work and how he ticks.
Then a voice came through the clouds, it was God who did the talking
there was lightning and the heavens shook and thundered
I could hear the words so clear, 'yes, this man will still be walking
on this earth when he gets to be one hundred. '