Pluck Those Flowers? Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

Just think my friend, what does it mean
when no more flowers can be seen
the sight of flowers does surprise,
their beauty, gentle to the eyes

their fragrance, lovely to the nose
much poetry and welcome prose
but God made flowers, yes, indeed
to give some beauty to each weed.

The flower that you pick to keep
creates a wound so very deep
and through the forest goes a sigh
a flower, plucked, will always cry.


Please go to any pub instead
or stay at home, rest in your bed.
But if you feel you want to pick
a flower, please just wait a tic,
ye Gods have planted all to make
our lives reality, not fake.

He did forget to emphasise
that man be thoughtful, also wise
he plucks a virgin from her perch
and looks at married ones in church.

I think we would be well advised
if most of us just realised
that sitting on the porch of hope
we'd never need the kick of dope.

But love will surely find us soon
it is a deal between the moon
and all the stars that watch the game
those efforts to achieve our fame.

A siesta in a field of flowers
recharges all our hidden powers,
but leave the beauty, let it flow
bring home a flower? Please say 'NO'.