Little Heini Poem by Herbert Nehrlich
Little Heini
A dipstick likes to rest in oil,
air does reside in tyres.
All plants are anchored in the soil
and flames make up all fires.
I ask you, though, why man's small pin
is not a simple thing.
At night he sometimes wanders in
and leaves a pleasant sting.
But, in the day he hangs between
two duffle bags with wrinkles.
And there he sleeps. Is only seen
occasionally, for sprinkles.
When I read the title I thought it was short for 'Heineken'. ; -) Amicalement votre, R.
In the states we call him Mr. Happy...when he is....and Mini Me when he is not.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 9:11:09 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Herbert, this is hilarious! A very clever way of 'putting' it! Loved this poem immensely. Thanks for the chuckle. Love Ernestine XXX