Lessons - Poem by Herbert Nehrlich
A little boy, so full of greed
for knowledge thus to nourish
his mind where every tiny seed
would enter, there to flourish.
His eyes were big, his ears alert,
his face a questionmark.
And so he spent, this little squirt
his hours dawn to dark.
He never dreamed that he would meet her
so many years after he'd learned,
made in the European Theatre
he had been broken, growth adjourned.
He had it all, from Math to Chem,
his man-made destiny:
It was to be a learned man
or rot in misery.
A thousand books were on his shelves,
and both his parents saw themselves
ordainers of this story.
There's Discipline with cap'tal D,
there's duties, chores and obligation,
and there's 'work will set you free',
you, too can be an imitation.
Then SHE was there, so suddenly.
I looked at her - she looked at me.
And when we spent some time together
we found us birds of the same feather.
She had a key that fit a lock
inside my inner maze.
The lock was rusted, so she knocked
to see if she could raise
the boy inside who sat and read
another science book,
his papers piled up on his bed
and in the corner nook.
The lock then opened through sheer force,
she had extensive skills.
He was surprised and shocked, of course,
but sat there, pale and still.
She took his hand to feel his pulse
because she was attracted.
And soon they danced the Vienna Waltz
as now they interacted.
That room was home for seven days,
they never left it once.
Genetic Bond, to coin a phrase,
day seven saw them dance.
They left together shabby quarters
and rusted locks behind,
and understood now life's own rorters
and read each other's mind.
Today they live in Paradise,
that is each other's special heart,
he learned that 'love' differs from 'wise',
the lesson learned did smart.
They do not use analysis
of Chemistry or Mathematics,
when they stop now and then to kiss
or do some acrobatics.
They kiss to taste each other - yes!
They hug to love each other -Bless!
They know what you would rather.......- Guess!
Comments about Lessons by Herbert Nehrlich
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye