Trickle Ii Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

An eager tongue,
(termites beware) ,
it braved again
old spinifex,
to reach the font,
there always was
a trickle to be had,
refresh me, nectar
of another God!
The entrance closed,
like latex lips
and drew in to its depth
just to initiate
exploratory moods
while guiding him
through gooey tentacles
into the darkness
of soft stalagtites,
bathed in the balm
of Cantadora's loft,
He did not need,
nor wait for further signs,
it was what never could,
or would have been
the stuff that promises
are made of in this life.
The mix was more exotic then,
as heavy cream and treacle,
which is subservient to
the queen of saccharides,
Molasses seals the fate,
it sticks to all,
it trickles down,
toward the secret place,
sweet nectar of
another God.