Lingual Salad Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

Lingual Salad

Rating: 5.0

Schon morgens hab' ich grosse Lust
auf eine schoene, weiche Brust.
Als ich vor Jahren Deine Brueste
mit Inbrunst, doch im Dunkeln kuesste,
verlor ich die Examenfrust,
durch langes Kuessen Deiner Brust.
Doch heute leb ich an der Kueste
im fernen Land. Nur wenn ich wuesste
if you would still allow (don't jest)
for me to reach beneath your vest (?)
which is, of course, simply a must
and no, the term shall not be bust,
well what I meant to ask, I'd best
present to you with all the rest
of unimportant, full of frust,
ideas including, simply, lust
in hopes that I can be your guest
and thus will be supremely blessed.
The Krauts say real love won't rust,
no rain, nor sleet, tornado gust
would keep my lips from being pressed
forever to your lovely breast.
Ich steige auf Mt. Everest
und baue dort ein kleines Nest.
Did someone say the word non-plussed?
I answer you, it's all in trust.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Allan James Saywell 08 November 2007

Truly a fruit salad of words from a fine poet about the wonderment of a Woman and two peaks and the need for men such as myself to have a little tweak Though i must say i am a little rusty, it has been a long time since i have played with a set of water melons or have climbed any mountains Warm regards AWSOME

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