Tumescence Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

We wake to yet another day of silly lessons,
would that we really could ignore them all,
wallow instead in happy effervescence
and hope he has a chance to stand up tall.
A man's appendage is, in fact, his only essence,
he grooms and frets to see it ready to engage,
but after climbing many mountains and small crescents
he must be cognizant of something we call middle age.
And here, it's love that generates a luminescence,
it floods with golden rays the human skin,
it also triggers a good measure of tumescence
which paves the way and does allow a tiny grin.