Herbert Nehrlich

Rookie (04 October 1943 / Germany)

Cold Blood - Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

........and from the river bed emerged
a mermaid of astounding features.
I wondered whether she'd been urged
to leave the underwater creatures.
She could not walk, that much was clear,
no legs but just a bulge of cheeks.
And in the front, oh dear, oh dear:
Rewarded be the one who seeks.
Her smile was brilliant and seductive,
two shapely arms and milky breasts,
I thought that these could prove destructive
if one stopped by to be her guest.
A good samaritan like me
will help when it is indicated.
She could not walk she was not free,
a problem she had not created.
I carried her toward my house,
traversed the threshold in my arms.
Would she agree to be my spouse
after some previous false alarms?
She saw the bed, its silken covers
and nodded rather eagerly.
I briefly wondered whether lovers
of female mermaids could be free
to stroke the region God constructed,
and do the thingy called 'foreplay',
from outside in 'twas tightly ducted,
some hair curled coarsely in the bay.
So down I went, head into pillow,
Logistics was now springing up,
she arched her fishback like a willow.
My temperature went to the top.
When Eeerie Calm came with her tongue
and titillated all my being,
into my ear she blew her song.
I felt her nipples, wasn't seeing
that, although firm, they spoke of reason.
The blood was cold inside soft mounds,
and in this steamy summer season
a frigid breast in bed astounds.
She whispered, cuddling clammy skin,
that TIME was what we must respect,
that we'd commit no deadly sin
if thoroughly we would inspect
all of our idiosyncrasies,
like hairless armpits, purple lips,
and concentrate on keeping these
in deeper waters like tall ships.
Avoid the storms, the urgent thrusts,
the exploration without sonar
and all-consuming feral lust,
by giving in to Master Boner.
'I say', she breathed, 'we only share
our hearts by holding on with hands
that lovingly caress the bare
and willing skin without demands.
And time will pass, you mark my word,
your heart will share its warmth and blood.
Our souls will answer when they've heard
the tiny extra beat, the Thud.
And then, my man, we will be ready
to love each other in this bed,
but in the meantime let the heady
perfume of closeness rule instead.
My blood is cold, but not my heart,
if ours is love we will succeed
to have our heat grow from a start
until both spirits have been freed.

I thought about the whispered wisdom.
I snuggled with her clammy skin.
I saw her lips and slowly kissed them.
And thought 'I love eternal sin'.

Dedicated to: Whom it may concern.


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Read poems about / on: respect, lust, purple, river, summer, house, hair, smile, song, kiss, spring, water



Poem Submitted: Friday, December 17, 2004



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