My Lederhose Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

I loved the touch of you,
cool in the summer and so...
..shall we say, of warmth
in Continental winterstorms.
You always clung to me,
hugged both my nether cheeks
and kept the little fellow safe
as well as hidden from
the prying eyes of predators.
You had a flap, I call it tongue
and all your dignity was kept
above the vulgar sphere
that can be found above
as well as in the ground.
You waited patiently all night
perhaps you hoped and wished
for just a brief nocturnal touch.
Which never came at all,
but in the early morn you stared
while I came steaming from
the noisy shower, ready now
for your sweet company
where we would share the day
and blatant intimacy.
Yes, you were tough as well
withstood the torture of the life
of a rambunctious boy who,
by reason of the raw insanity
of fresh and generous recalcitrance
would not have thought of peace
or the sweet kindness of a courtesy
toward himself or an expectant soul.

We were together, all those days
except for what they called Jehova's Day.
That's when the Sunday suit was it,
the mandatory and for all formality.
And you, my tough and loyal hide,
you sat, with saddened eyes,
wrapped up in Edelweiss suspenders
on the Persian runner near the bed
and waited for the day and night to end.