Sealed Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

Some poets need to be
well...........honoured for their minds,
there is a she called D
and Bowstring to unwind.
A Slim from Pommyland
Her Majesty's in Dutch,
Bushpoet Tweeds and sand
and more, I'm sure as such.

I'd kiss the lot of course,
if manners did permit,
though through a Trojan Horse
we meet a hypocrite.

Her lips were made for me
her tongue, her hands to feel,
her Q supplants her P
and Dew completes the seal.