Nudist Camp - Poem by Herbert Nehrlich
' Come', said Gitta (that's my niece) ,
' let's go down to the nudist camp',
as I was looking at the crease
that I had ironed into damp
and quite expensive, dark-blue trousers.
'just leave those civil clothes behind, '
I thought that nudists are arousers,
with sex and mayhem on their mind.
I tried to find a thrifty reason,
but she insisted she knew why,
I said it was late in the season
and that I really was not shy.
But in the end I tagged along,
right at the entrance stood a giant,
with what I'd call an equine schlong.
I tried once more to be defiant.
And then we stripped, went off to mingle
with others of the same persuasion,
most here were couples, but a single,
midlifish fellow, who looked Asian,
came up and introduced his body,
which was astonishingly stout.
He offered us a Saki Toddy
and said he was an Astronaut.
Strapped in the capsule, as they are
for many hours, he would miss
the comforts of the ground (so far) ,
it bugged him when he had to piss.
Inside the spacecraft it was hell,
that's why he was truly inclined
to free himself, out of his shell
(and show to others his behind) .
We made the rounds and I was staring
at parts I did not often see,
thereby forgetting I was baring
my own equipment (not with glee) ,
and when we left the Nudist Haven,
the morning man had been replaced
by the most stunning, black as Raven
voluptuous beauty, who was based
right on the premises, residing
in a small hut of cedar planks.
I saw no further grounds in hiding
my gratitude, so I said 'thanks'
to Gitta, and 'wait just a minute',
and Raven signed me 'til September,
and I was happy to be in it,
a full-fledged Nudist Haven member.
Comments about Nudist Camp by Herbert Nehrlich
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
- Still I RiseMaya Angelou
- The Road Not TakenRobert Frost
- If You Forget MePablo Neruda
- DreamsLangston Hughes
- Annabel LeeEdgar Allan Poe
- IfRudyard Kipling
- Stopping By Woods On A Snowy EveningRobert Frost
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And WeepMary Elizabeth Frye
- I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love YouPablo Neruda
- TelevisionRoald Dahl